Darkshines
by fralara76
Summary: Thor's smile looks sincere and Loki feels serenity radiating in an incomprehensible way, the golden hair and the armor make blind his sight and make him wonder of such brightness emanated. The light of justice dominates upon the darkness of the won.
1. Chapter 1

**C****hapter 1.****  
**

**Asgard, the Royal Apartments.**

The slight sound of his own breath awakens Loki from unconsciousness.

"_Where am I?"_

He instinctively questions himself.

His eyes just gaze painstakingly as they try to get used to the dim light while his mind tries to evoke the place in which he finds himself, seizing everywhere details that are known to him.

His room.

The first feeling is dismay, followed by an annoying, constant quiver that strikes his fragile and fatigued physique, because of the bitter cold that has already penetrated his bones.

His precious black silk robes are too slight to protect his body from the ground from which he is being shackled to by chains on his distended wrists that bind his slender arms behind his back, so closely to make him feel pain.

"_Why I am still here?"_

The repudiated Prince asks himself, sure about his choice of death instead of salvation, while beneath his body the bridge was crumbling and Thor, the heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Asgard, was destroying a great part of the Bifrost Rainbow, forever isolating his empire from eight other known worlds.

As every stone was falling into the infinity, Loki refused to take his brother's hand, who - despite his treason - had seemed eager to help him, a reckless, incomprehensible attitude, unworthy of a great King.

No.

Loki would definitely not have wasted that energy if he had been in Thor's place.

Traitors always pay with their lives.

To him, Thor had once again proved to be weak and undeserving of all the prestige his father wanted to give him.

With those blue eyes in his green gaze, Loki let himself fall in the vacuum rather than being a prisoner of a half-brother that he envied and hated above all the others.

Yet now, the Prince who was sentenced to death finds himself in the rooms he once owned, and every certainty he once felt is faltering while he is recognizing its large canopy bed in the middle of the room, and the refined furniture with precious golden ornaments.

"_But how is this possible? Can Hel look so familiar?"_

The boy asks himself, while arching his back in order to give himself a boost and get back on his feet, but it's a movement he doesn't succeed with; there's some kind of physical exhaustion that he finds rather suspicious.

After a few tries, he can scarcely turn on his side, shuddering at the contact of the cold marble floor with its white gaunt cheek.  
His long, dark-as-night hair falls on his face and annoys him, but he can't move the hair in disarray, so he surrenders to the inconveniences of that position and lets out a hysterical scream, venting such anger and fear of the unknown.

"_Damn It!"_

Swears the wretched boy, while hiding bitter tears of frustration.

‹‹ Your Majesty! Your brother has awakened! ››

Loki listens with his heart in his throat as many people begin whispering outside once he abandons himself to his instinctive vent.

After hearing determined steps, heels that mark the impetus of a mysterious visitor outside the room, he senses behind himself the huge door opening with a dry thud, most likely caused by a very excited entrance.

"_No … all this is unreal … I can't believe this, I don't want to believe it!"_

Repeats the young man lying on the ground, as he tries to recover before the arrival of the visitor, whose identity Loki fears to have already known even without turning to see the stranger.

And then the harsh grip of two strong arms force him to turn around, finding himself looking into those despised eyes of heaven upon him and an arrogant, victorious smile.

Thor.

‹‹ So you've woken up, brother. ››

The future King of Asgard whispers with fake courtesy, the only true son of Odin.

Thor struggles to hide the thrill for their idyllic match.

How he missed hugging his brother, Loki's expression shows him all his terror, emerald green eyes grow wider as he delicately caresses the gentle shape of his face with his fingers, holding back his black hair.

Thor feels him shaking, maybe because of his rage, maybe because of his fear.

‹‹ What happened? Why am I here? ››  
The prisoner asks him, floundering desperately to escape the morbid hug, but getting only a more vigorous hold.

His breath breaks as his fragile chest is burdened by that mighty one of his jailer, horrified to hear his breath mingling with Thor's own.

‹‹ You have been rescued, brother. I wanted to save you. ››  
Thor softens his voice and eyes, filled with an affection that even he is unable to repress after attending to his atrocities.

‹‹ I'm not your brother. Stop it! ›› hisses the other, making those elegant eyes become thinner, full of hatred and rancor as they are.

‹‹ We have always been brothers, not by blood, but for the heart! I can't stop loving you as a brother, ›› tells him the future heir to the throne ‹‹ I didn't succeed in turning my back and leaving you… ››

Those lips brush inviting against the boy in his arms, fingers sink into the softness of those silky jet-black hair.

‹‹ You fool! There has never been any feeling on my part, ›› Loki cruelly states, turning sideways, firmly breaking the ambiguity of that approach ‹‹ and your suffering for me makes you weak, insignificant, and next to your defeat! ››

The renegaded Prince bursts into laughter, without caring about of the rejected brother's reaction, which does not make him wait more than a few moments.

A violent slap ends the cruel laughter, stunning the rebellious boy to such an extent that the embrace of his attacker softens in a fight against the loss of the senses.

‹‹ Listen to me well, Loki! ›› hisses Thor, his furious gaze searches for the stunned boy's almost vanished one ‹‹ you're not the winner among us, don't forget it anymore. ››

‹‹ Kill me, kill me! ›› the proud prisoner sets out with a loud voice.

‹‹ You're not in a useful position to give me orders, ›› Thor resumes, annoyed, putting a finger on his brother's lips ‹‹ and then, would that make me the stupid one among us two? ››

The pressure of his touch makes Loki partially open his lips, who has ended up trembling, still not realizing what the arrogant lout wants now.

‹‹ I've always loved you, brother, my affection was sincere, pure, maybe more than I should have, ›› the future King of Asgard resumes his explanation, ‹‹ I tried to hate you, but this feeling does not go from inside of me. ››

His fingers delineate the shape of the mouth of the boy who betrayed and broke his heart, eyes tightly closed as he slowly gets nearer and nearer, creating a devout and chaste kiss.

Loki's heart misses a beat, incredulous and impotent as he suffers from that violation, his eyes wide from bewilderment and confusion as he watches the man.  
The faint moans emitted express his strict denial for this gesture, but the fragility of his state does not allow him to avoid their contact.

And when finally the Prince interrupts that obligated kiss, its few energies seem to dissolve, as looted from that arrogant mouth.

‹‹ What have you done to me? What was that kiss? ›› asks Loki, his voice is a slight, barely perceivable whisper.

Although reluctantly, his head finds needed support on the hot chest of his hated enemy, suddenly too weak to bear the weight.

The man's gentle jaw clenches as he hears laughter subdued by Thor, who caresses his long hair, fondling, kissing his icy front.

That touch seems to be Helfire.

Loki moans, feeling that hot mouth on his delicate skin.

‹‹ What witchcraft have you inflicted to me, you vile damned? ›› he insults him.

‹‹ You have a small sliver of my hammer underneath your skin, a necessary precaution so that your powers cannot give me quite any harm, ›› is the cryptic reply of the Prince.

‹‹ For this reason, I feel so fragile…? Do you want me to be your slave so that you can have your revenge upon me? ›› Loki ventures the hypothesis, tipping his face to avoid the unwelcomed attention of his hands.

‹‹ No. Not just a slave. Your humiliation would not satisfy me enough. For you… I decided quite a different fate. ››

Loki cannot get away from Thor's morbid caresses, his chin is captured by the Prince's irreverent fingers, which are lifting it just enough to meet their eyes.

‹‹ I can't imagine myself without you by my side… ›› Thor gets lost in those wonderful eyes, exciting like the most treacherous and fascinating among mermaids of lore, accentuated by the delicate ornamentation of the silk robe that artfully incorporates the color's intensity.

‹‹ Do you want to return me my title? ›› Loki asks incredulously, uncomfortably tackling those intense, crystalline eyes that act as irresistible magnets to attract everybody, and inevitably his thoughts cloud.

Two mirrors of sky dive in emerald waters, seduce, bind.

‹‹ Not exactly, brother. ››  
Thor's smile looks sincere and Loki feels serenity radiating in an incomprehensible way, the golden hair and the armor make blind his sight and make him wonder of such brightness emanated.

_The light of justice dominates upon the darkness of the won._

‹‹ I already told you not to call me so, we are not brothers! ›› Loki protests, proud yet nervous, shaking his head to try to arouse the lucidity.  
‹‹ It is true; we are not. For this reason I made a completely different decision so you can be forever beside me. A link is also well regarded by Odin and Laufey, as capable of establishing the Alliance between our two peoples, ››  
Thor states with solemn tone.

‹‹ How else…!? ››  
Suddenly the mouth of the crowned Prince returns to claim the hostage's own, this time with arrogance, and as an indomitable chastisement it punishes that one unfinished question.

The enthusiasm makes Loki fall to the ground and he terrifyingly finds himself blocked by the body of the handsome, looming brother.

The young man desperately closes his lips, but only to feel them lapped by the tongue of his attacker, until compelled by urgent request of him to disclose them, finally accepting the claim of a kiss more intimate than its predecessor.

Tears of terror go down Loki's face, while he follows the persuasive game of Thor's talented tongue, allowing the encounter with him, moaning helplessly when he hears him grabbing his buttocks without any kindness, and the hardness of Thor's erection is there, against his abdomen, while having in those minutes of panic forced effusions.

When Thor eventually stops the kiss, Loki frees his rampage in an unrestrained weeping, shocked by an ardent initiative that would never believed to be on his side.

‹‹ You are crazy! I hate you and I curse you! Did you hear me? I cu– ›› his colorful expletives and the litany of insults have promptly gone silent by the hand of the other, which is put on his mouth.

‹‹ Shut up, Loki! ››  
The submissive boy hears the voice of his Lord cracking and, baffled, observes Thor's eyes fill with suffering.

"What does it mean? Why that pain, if he won against me?"  
Wonders the traitor.

Then a deep breath, and the expression of Thor goes back to an impassive one as his eyes gaze upon Loki without any compassion.

‹‹ You are promised to me. You will become a devout lover and faithful companion, and together we will open a new era on Asgard, which will sound peace and harmony among our peoples. ››

Loki's heart yet again misses a beat while listening to those words, still so hard to believe.

Thor, _his Lord._

‹‹ You, are you positive about that…? ›› whispers the new fiancée, allowing him to wipe away his tears, too shocked to fight again against him.  
‹‹ Yes, my beloved. We're not brothers, as you like so much to say, so I can have you as a groom. ››

Confirms Thor with a wry grin, and then kisses Loki's lips one last time and finally gets up from the floor, giving the boy temporary relief.

‹‹ You won't believe to have my consent, filthy coward? ›› cries Loki, as he sees Thor heading for the exit.

‹‹ From me, you will get only more contempt! ››

Thor stops his pace as he hears that threat, remaining motionless a few seconds. The younger holds his breath, fearing a violent reaction.

The answer to that declared hatred is, however, a loud laugh. And before reentering the corridor and leaving him lying on the cold marble, Thor gives him one last enigmatic look, one that even Loki cannot decipher.

‹‹ You may not be consent – not now at least – but I don't care, ›› states the future Lord of Asgard, coldly welcomed in the terrified air amidst the face of his Royal prisoner.

‹‹ I'll kill you, Thor. ››

Loki's promise is message of deep animosity, hate, and immeasurable emotions read by his eyes, charming reflections of his dark soul.

_Loki hates him, deeply, and with all his being._

Thor is fascinated by the attractiveness of his future husband.  
Loki's arrogant beauty leaves him breathless every time he admires it with too much perseverance, as threatening as his cruelty, enough for his lover to offset the total emotional vacuum.

_Thor loves it, irrationally, with all his being._

‹‹ The maids will be here to prepare you for the evening. I want to enjoy your company at dinner, ›› states the crowned Prince.  
‹‹ I will not eat at all with you! ›› screams the rebellious boy.  
‹‹ Then you will not see neither food nor water if you reject sitting at my table. I will let you die in this room, ›› Thor threatens, raising the tone of his voice.

‹‹ Better to die than be yours, ›› his fiancée offends.  
‹‹ It would take you days to die! ›› the Prince informs him, then continues ‹‹ …sorry to say that even if you don't eat, I'll rid myself of your 'duties' under the sheets, too, every night. ››

And Loki remains silent to hear the beating of his heart, as to hide the deafening noise of his suitor's boots, who abandons the room and vehemently closes the door behind him.

Thanks.

**Translation by Alessandra Zago**

**Edit by :**

Sigynthefaithful ( Chapter 1-5 )

Miss Moriarty (Chapter 1 )


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two.**

‹‹ The Crowned Prince wanted to choose the attire you'd wear, my Lord, ›› says a young servant, ‹‹ and if I dare say so, it's of appropriate design, ›› she adds, fascinated by the charm of the porcelain white-skinned young man, and continues, ‹‹ these fabrics enhance the color of your eyes, ›› noting the particular preciousness of the black satin combined with intense myrtle green.

Loki studies the woman's dull looks for a while through the huge mirror framed in silver leaf, and responds to her attention with a disgusted grimace, almost as if looking at an insignificant insect.

‹‹ How dare you speak to me, slave? Your every gasp infects the air we breathe! Be quiet! ›› he resumes in anger, glaring at her with a gaze of immense hatred.

The woman becomes instantly silent and begins brushing his long silky hair. Behind him, other frightened servants settle the long trail of the black robe so that it falls without creasing on the precious carpet inlaid with gold and copper, masterfully woven in intricate loops.

Satisfied with that vision of general terror, Loki turns back to admire his own image; yet the mind, once distracted, flies back to the memory of the kiss stolen by the oppressive Crowned Prince of Asgard just hours before.

His heart leaps when he brings back to mind the image of his hated ex-brother... and from that day on, his fiancée.

Thor and his soft lips, greedy for an intimacy incomprehensible to Loki.

A violent kiss, yet passionate, overwhelming, stating immense and sincere warmth.

_"Damn! Again, you have proven your selfishness and arrogance!"_

He thinks as he calls the maid back with a wave of the hand, signaling that she may approach and finish her task.

The servant slowly and delicately draws a thin line with kohl around the contour of his eyes, complimenting the hue of his eyes and while accentuating their shape.

_"Our union would show his complete power over me. But I will not let him have me!"_

Loki swears to himself.

‹‹ Leave me! ›› he orders with a high voice, without deigning any kind of interest for the laid-off women.

He patiently listens to the noise of hurried footsteps, obstinately watching himself in the mirror until he hears the door closing after their exit.

_"Even as weak as I am now, I will not submit, Thor."_

Loki releases a slight sigh, plagued by his fragility due to the sliver of Mjölnir, the divine weapon of Odin's son, underneath his skin.

_"Better death than humiliation."_

He tells himself, tightening his jaw.

Those dark thoughts make his already strong hatred grow as his breath becomes hard, one hand crushing the brush on the dressing table without realizing it.

In that vise grip he channels all his frustration. Forced to give up his enormous power, he reminds himself promises he'll find the source of the damage and expel it from his body.

‹‹ Huh...?! ››

Loki feels the brush freezing between his fingers, looking pleasantly amazed at its handle, now pointed and sharp.

‹‹ My Lord, Prince Thor, awaits you in the Great Hall! You have to leave your rooms now! ››

Shouts a guard from outside the door.

The prisoner leaves the room as requested and walks proudly towards the Great Hall, ignoring the defiant gaze of the guards as they are considered to be by unclean, unworthy even of a fleeting glimpse, by Loki.

He smiles perversely at the memory of the manifestation of his power, even if in a minute form; thanks to it, he now has a sharp stiletto made of ice tucked safely between the linings of a seat pillow... a perfect weapon to welcome the hated mate in his bed on their first night together.

**T**hor flinches when the wide door opens violently and Loki, his Dark Angel, appears proudly on the doorstep.

He morbidly scours the sinuous movements of Loki's unearthly body, shapes exalted by the long veiled robes that make his slender legs, wrapped in tight black pants, look even longer.

The precious, rustling train of satin on sleek marble flooring is exciting, the rhythmical sound of the heels of his leather boots, erotic accessories high enough to cover his delicate knees, seduce Thor.

Thor indulges in the sight of the smooth, hairless chest exposed by the veiled tissue, and he remains suspended in time when their eyes finally meet.

Loki has the appeal of Darkness about him, a trait that transfixes his Master's brilliant gaze, inexorably turning Thor into his own slave.

‹‹ I notice the absence of your armor… I am pleasantly impressed, ›› Loki begins, watching with interest the scarlet garments hugging the body of mighty Thor, embellished with gold works on the collar and softened by a long white coat. ‹‹ However, there is still much work to do on your rather vulgar tastes, ›› he acidly concludes, one step away from the Thunderer.

‹‹ I am glad you changed your mind about dinner, brother. ››

Thor tells him while gallantly bids the chair next to his. His royal prisoner seats himself gracefully.

‹‹ Do not make me repent, brother. ›› Loki says, dosing both kindness and cruelty in those few words.

The servants make their entrance discreetly, and the young Princes thank them as they begin presenting the first courses that are to be consumed in a deafening silence.

Loki's fingers are suddenly searching for his elder brother's and gently caress them.

Thor can't help but notice the docile acceptance of his guest, who appears strangely natural and at ease at his side.

It is not typical for Loki to meet Thor's gaze and lower his out of respect, accepting the role of lover and submissive companion.

No. There is something that escapes his mind.

Perhaps it is the knowledge that he cannot use his powers led him to surrender?

His behavior before the evening, however, proves that this theory is in stark contrast to his nature.

_"What are you plotting, Loki? Why don't you show even the slightest reaction of pride?"_

Thor wonders.

Loki follows every movement of his Lord out of the corner of his eyes; however, he does not allow much of that attention to show, even when he sees Thor's fingers move away from his in order to head towards the crystal wine chalice.

‹‹ I would like to raise my cup to thee, my beloved fiancée, ›› Thor says. ‹‹ Tonight you are a dream, an entrancing vision that pleases all my senses. ››

Loki is at first left wordless, but in the end raises his glass to meet Thor's.

‹‹ No. I do not deserve so much. I want to celebrate you, brother, Lord of Asgard, ››

he whispers, brushing Thor's lips with his own, then drinking from his cup just when Thor tries to erase the slightest distance between them.

The sly smile and mischievous gaze of the seductive provocateur may deceive Thor's eyes, but it is the frighteningly icy voice that makes the Crowned Prince understand the true message.

The cat is awake and it is still playing with the mouse, but Thor has no intention to end trapped and therefore satisfying the thirst for revenge of his treacherous ex-brother.

‹‹ Come here and kiss me! ››

He commands loudly while his hands cup the deceiver's sharp face, capturing by force the kiss Loki denied him at the last moment.

Disbelieving, Loki's eyes grow wider as he endures the long and everlasting seconds of the unexpected initiative of his detested ex-brother, until his instinct rescues him and he breaks their contact, impolitely slapping those vulgar hands away from his face.

‹‹ What an impudence! What terrible manners are these? ››

Loki protests in shock, wiping his lips with trembling fingers.

‹‹ It is not rude, since it is an order of the future King of Asgard. I will marry you within a week, and I will become your unquestionable Lord. ››

Thor replies, grinning back to the horrified face he garners in response from his prisoner.

‹‹ NEVER! ››

Loki relinquishes all his anger, grabs his cup, and splashes the wine right in the arrogant Prince's face.

‹‹ Here is the cat pulling out its claws, finally! You've never tricked me, little brother, ›› commented Thor, wiping his face with the sleeve of his costly dress. ‹‹ It is your aggressive side that I like and want to enjoy tonight! ››

‹‹ I will never be yours! ››

Loki hisses, leaving the banquet table and the undesired company in a hurry, heading fast towards the exit of the Great Hall.

‹‹ It is a matter to be clarified together, soon, in your own bed. ››

Thor informs him flatly, watching the majestic retreat of his prisoner, and can't help but burst into laughter.

**T**he moon is already high when a somber clang at his chamber door warns Loki of the arrival of his spouse-to-be, waking him from his tormented slumber.

_"It's him."_

With a gasp, he breathes in the unmistakable scent that infuses the air as soon as the door is opened.

_"I have to stay calm! It will go just as planned..."_

He repeats to himself, nervously skimming the dagger under the pillow.

He listens, distressed, to the thud of boots on the floor coming closer and closer. Loki can discern the daring shine of Thor's cloak in the darkness of the room.

Without making a sound, he tries to light the small lamp on the old bedside table so that he can see better, but his hand is firmly locked by the other's hands, who has now come just few inches far from his nose.

Loki instinctively yelps in surprise, causing Thor to laugh, then caress a pale cheek as if to reassure him.

‹‹ This is not funny! ››

The resentful young man blurts, still dealing with his sudden shortness of breath.

Thor instantly stops laughing, greedily gazing his ex-brother, as he appears blissfully attractive in his long purple silk night shirt.

Loki: so fragile, yet so deadly.

‹‹ I am sorry; I did not mean to scare you. ››

Thor's voice is like soft velvet to Loki's ear, as his hot mouth gently teases its lobe, making him feel shivers along his slender back.

The physical reaction is lost by his seducer, who – distracted by his growing desire – starts to get ridding himself of his clothes and backs off a few steps from the bed.

Loki would not have believed to have to struggle so much in order to look away from those perfect muscles, the vision of that mighty torso causing his breath to stop and his mind to become confused at the moment when he desperately needs to keep very alert.

_"I should stay watchful, or I will miss the perfect opportunity to kill him!"_

Loki reminds himself, dedicating a fleeting glimpse to the bed, where he aims to seduce his jailer and pierce his chest with the blade: his only chance to escape from this prison, he thinks.

Thor: so detestable and yet so exciting.

The Crowned Prince watches amusedly as Loki's expression becomes increasingly embarrassed, made evident by his cheeks becoming a delicious shade of pink and the perspiration beads starting to pearl atop his forehead, all because Thor is getting rid of the rest of his clothing.

_"So, it is not just hatred and contempt that you feel for me, Loki!"_

Thor thinks, pleased to observe the hidden lust in Loki's hateful gaze.

Suddenly, Loki's expression is altered and Thor's gaze turns toward his ex-brother's figure, shrouded in shadows.

‹‹ Come closer to me… ››

He orders with a resolute tone of voice, but at the same time he aims a reassuring smile.

Loki lingers a moment, then he decides to obey.

One step, another…

Thor's heart drums stoutly in his chest, and he almost fears that it will jump out when his beloved fiancée lowers his head as a sign of submission.

‹‹ My Lord... here I am, ››

Loki whispers dutifully, shading his emerald green eyes behind dark lashes when he feels Thor grabbing him with his big, strong hands.

He feels as if he were dying when those fingers run along his belt, causing his long gown to fall on the floor, showing his nakedness to the hungry glare of his Lord.

‹‹ You are... you are so beautiful! ››

Thor's voice stutters with emotion.

The younger man feels confusedly flattered. He melts to the heat of those large hands on his skin. He experiences contradictory feelings such as anger, frustration, and fear, but also a sense of twisted thrill.

‹‹ Open your eyes, Loki, my love... ››

The Crowned Prince of Asgard asks in a soft whisper, gently cupping his chin.

A sigh escapes the prisoner's lips when he feels his seducer's tongue lick the skin between his jaw and neck, and he finally gives up, obeying Thor's last order.

Loki feels helpless, his knees leaving him at the mercy of Thor's timely support, who ardently presses him closer.

Thor's strong arms imprison him, the roughness of his erection meets Loki's own – equally hard – in an erotic touch that triggers a small electric shock along both their spines.

‹‹ I cannot hide the passion I feel for you anymore. I will no longer hide it! What about you? ›› asks Thor, punctuating each word with small kisses on his Loki's, cheeks, on his thick black lashes, on the corners of his mouth, insistently enticing him.

But his ex-brother doesn't have a sensible answer to that question, but instead begs for another long, heated kiss that is granted with great passion by the other.

_"It's just a kiss... it's just a stupid meaningless kiss... it cannot compensate for the loss of a throne that is rightfully mine!"_

Loki desperately repeats to himself while savoring the taste of his tempter's sweet lips, entranced by the harmony of their tongues that sensually dance together for a long, long time until the lack of air forces them to part and regain their breaths.

The expert deceiver's flawless logic tries to swindle a heart unprepared to handle and contain such intense emotions.

Thor gets lost in Loki's blurred eyes and Loki gets lost in Thor's clear ones, all hatred and doubt toward each other dormant because of that kiss, that touch, giving both of them the carnal delight of the senses.

_Love strangles hatred as desire triumphs over revenge._

Without any effort, the Prince of Asgard lifts his lover and quickly strides towards the bed, where he lays him down carefully, then bends over him.

Both of Thor's daring hands slide impurely on the delicate skin of the young man lying underneath him, excited by that amazing softness and moans, until he stops suddenly between Loki's thighs.

He grabs Loki's hips and lifts them so that their bodies press closer.

‹‹ I want you, now! ››

The proud Prince mumbles, his voice hoarse with lust, an eloquent warning that awakens Loki's mind that had been temporarily confused by all that hot desire.

Thor claims his docile servitude, he wants to dominate him and subdue him for the rest of his life.

How dare he reduce him to slavery? Undeserving of the throne, should he now dominate yet another asset?

Loki's heart brims with wounded pride and blind ambition, his eyes are dark pools now, but he – shrewd as he is – almost fully closes them in order to hide them from his companion and not arouse any suspicion.

_Hatred kills love, revenge subdues the craving._

‹‹ Thor ... ››

His voice becomes an instrument of deception; he musically purrs his ex-brother's name, which is again the morbid object of his immeasurable envy.

‹‹ Take me, my Lord ... ››

The treacherous young man tempts him, now certain he'll be able to fulfill the planned attack.

Thor lets himself to be distracted by his bewitching partner; so seduced by the sweetness of that invitation that he doesn't realize that Loki's hand is now back under the pillow, discreetly searching for his hidden shard.

Once he finds it, he squeezes the handle hard.

Only one quick movement, a shot taken in full chest and finally Loki would have his coveted victory.

He looks excited at his unsuspecting lover's face while he prepares to take his life.

The weapon between his fingers, however, seems to absorb the little energy he has. Handling it is already a considerable physical effort and his wrist is not quick enough as needed, making the attack too imprecise and predictable.

It is stopped without difficulty.

‹‹ DAMN! ›› swears Loki, defeated once again by the wrought upon him by the sliver of Mjölnir.

‹‹ Do you still rebel at your destiny, brother? ››

Thor chides him, angered, as his hands imprison both of Loki's wrists in an iron grip that is strong enough to force the offending dagger to be released.

‹‹ Until I draw my last breath, I will never submit to your commands! ›› the traitor assures.

‹‹ What about our kiss? If you hate me so much, why give it that much passion? ›› demands his ex-brother loudly, although in truth he's wondering about that himself.

‹‹ You're so pathetic, Thor! Did you really think I would yield to you, that I would love you? ››

Loki lies, the pride and lust for power holding him back from admitting the truth, burying the delightful sensations of the kiss in the meanderings of his black soul, condemning it forcefully and decisively.

‹‹ You deserve death for this outrage, but my desire to have you exceeds my wrath against your unforgivable deed. ››

Thor's eyes speak rage and indignation; his hands crush the wrists of his sly ex-brother so hard that it makes him cry out in pain.

‹‹ I hate you ... ››

Loki hisses, dealing with the pain with a reckless, wicked grin.

‹‹ Be quiet now! ›› Thor barks. ‹‹ We have already talked too much tonight! ›› he says.

‹‹ Don't you dare touch me! ››

Loki threatens, and in vain, his now-free hands struggling against Thor's chest, so heavy upon him as to take away his breath. His legs tremble as they try to close modestly, an attempt that fails due to the pressure on his body.

‹‹ It is me of the us two who has the right to issue orders! ›› Thor says, ready to take him by force.

The two old rivals challenge each other again in a sensual battlefield of white silk sheets.

Not a single complaint is issued by Loki when, without any kindness, Thor enters him.

He keeps his eyes tightly closed, refusing to look at the satisfied face of his tormentor.

He digs his teeth into his lower lip to endure the agony of brutal penetration.

The Crowned Prince's sensual movements soon forces the subjugated younger man to follow the impetuous, excited rhythm without any respite. Thor obscenely cries out when those glazed black claws scratch his bare back, marking it deeply.

Sweet and heinous, Thor punishes and rewards his non-compliant mate, alternating vigorous thrusts to slow strokes, throwing Loki in a whirlwind of pain and pleasure, eager to subjugate his rebellious soul with overwhelming passion.

It is difficult for Loki's mind to remain lucid and distinguish the hurt from bliss, artfully mixed by his expert lover, as the contempt and the passion he feels for Thor are equally ambiguous.

His own body acts instinctively and satisfies his longing with timid movements of the pelvis, leaving himself lead by the unrestrained erotic rhythm of that perverse union.

Although the incredible lovemaking lights Loki's lust, his heart, full of bitterness, does not surrender to his opponent.

Loki denies himself the release, his stubborn silence contrasts Thor's lustful moaning, eyes tightly closed, until he feels his heated lover's seed spread inside his body as Thor reaches the highest peak of pleasure, alone.

Only then he does he reopen his eyes to enjoy the embittered vision of his mate who, soon exhausted, relaxes and turns his back on him.

The challenge ends without a winner or loser.

Silence envelops the obscurity of the room for a lengthy time, broken only by their regular breaths. The cold of the night causes frequent shudders to their naked bodies.

Once he has decided to return to his rooms, the heir of Asgard turns on his side to contemplate his fiancée's thin, sinuous back that seems to glow in the darkness.

The urge to get his lover next to him again makes him try a tender embrace, bringing his chest against the icy velvety skin, and yet albeit full of affection, is again not reciprocated as he would like it to be.

‹‹ You got what you wanted, now go away! ›› hisses Loki, wrestling away the arms of his perverse companion, stubbornly showing him his back.

‹‹ It is not only this that I want from you, ›› Thor whispers softly. ‹‹ Rest, my beloved. I shall see you upon the morrow. ››

His lips kiss Loki's long, jet-black hair before withdrawing from his fragile body and leaving his bed.

_"Tomorrow I will kill you, Thor ..."_

Loki whispers internally between profuse tears, concealing his face in the crumpled sheets now imbued with the scent of the man he perversely hates yet wants at the same time.

The beating of his heart is a sweet, misunderstood rhythm, almost a sad melody that slowly drags him into a deep, dreamless sleep.

_- Edit by Miss Moriarty & Sigynthefaithful._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three.**

**T**he maids knock tentatively on the young Prince's door, as sun is already rising high in the sky; something specifically requested by the heir of Asgard, to let Loki restore his spent energy.

‹‹ My Prince ... ›› the devoted women announce themselves discretely, patiently waiting to be invited to in.

Loki slowly reopens his tired eyes, his mind still numb from the long sleep.

The intense odor of Thor on his skin overwhelms him, equally aggressive as his lover was the night before. A ruffian warrior, Thor, even between the sheets…

The heir to the Asgardian realm took over Loki's temporary frailty just to get his final submission with no consideration, violent and domineering; Thor chose to make love to him although he risked being stabbed in the heart by his companion.

Anger, frustration, painful sensations... yet Loki's heart-pounding was intense, constant as the mad desire to let himself go and enjoy Thor in that bloody union.

_"I wanted to make love to him ... I wanted to be completely his..."_

A frosty shiver shakes him, runs down his spine, as he reflects on that disconcerting truth.

Loki tries to understand his reaction to that rude, insane act; after all, he enjoyed an incomprehensible contentment and pride as he chose to suppress his most incoherent thoughts and the orgasm that was building.

_"I do not know whether it is the fault of Mjölnir's influence or not, but it is certain that I will not surrender to this weakness again!"_

He promises to himself, while his hand wanders distractedly, searching for his impetuous lover's one, to check his absence. Sighing, relieved and disappointed at the same time, until the memory about their cold separation returns.

Other knocks at the door come to disturb his intimate thoughts.

‹‹ Prince! Have mercy towards us, but your betrothed demanded we should look after you, ›› insist the women called to fulfill their duty.

Loki brings his hands to his temples, annoyed by the ringing voice of the intruder.

‹‹ Come in, ›› he finally agrees, highly annoyed.

His emerald gaze settles on the frightened women who are directed towards the bathroom, their gaze downwards, so as not to meet his disappointment as it had happened in previous occurrences.

‹‹ My Lord, follow us, please. We'll prepare a fine, hot bath, ›› the oldest among them invites him, bowing her head respectfully.

"Yes, that's what I need. I want to get rid of his damned smell…" thinks the prisoner while he proudly gets off the bed, using the white bed sheet as a long robe.

‹‹ Well, I have decided to use fragrances and lotions. I'll also dress up soberly, a robe with black, shiny reflections without coming off as vulgar. ››

She listens carefully to his precise instructions, lifting her gaze only when her Lord is already ahead by a few steps.

And it is then that she is charmed, silently contemplating his long hair, dark as a night without stars, falling on a soft, pearly bare back.

Her heart beats, enchanted by that ethereal creature who ignites the haunting light of darkness inside her, while she confusedly follows him at a safe distance as a marionette tied by invisible strings would, guided by the sound of his voice, seductive, melodious, yet ruthless and cruel.

_"Your Lord demands your sacrifice, humble servant," he repeats continuously through her mind. "You have been chosen for this honor, and you shall obey any order you will be given."_

The woman's dim eyes are obscure; among her thoughts there is no room for anything else but for him, her new master.

Loki reaches the bath, surrounded by water vapors, a faint nod drawing near the flock of servants to help him dispose of the cloth and soak his fatigued body in hot water. He's enjoying the pleasant effect of sauna on his skin.

_"Weak, but triumphant,"_ he thinks, satisfied by stealing the woman's mind by using his retrieved hypnotic abilities, although they demand of him a huge effort.

_"My body fights Mjölnir! I can get rid of this fool! "_

A perverted smirk distorts the gentle features of his oval face: the Dark Lord of Illusions is close to recovering his immense powers.

**I**f hope resurfaces in Loki's black heart, disappointment haunts Thor.

The Crowned Prince fretfully walks from one wall to the opposite of the great hall, the long scarlet cape swaying as he passes, the silver armor reflecting the light of the large central window of which Frigga leans upon, observing his frantic movements.

Pain and anxiety overwhelm her with equal intensity, as she fears the emotional meltdown of the firstborn Prince, heartbroken by the refusal of his betrothed who

despises and does not recognize him as the legitimate heir of Asgard.

‹‹ My beloved son, listen to me. Your attempt is futile, you should accept failure, ›› she states aggrievedly. ‹‹ You won't be able to soften Loki. You must give up. ››

She just lifts the trail of her long ivory linen dress, advancing gracefully toward the restless young man, before she approaching an alabaster column among many in the sumptuous room as she braces herself to talk about the thorny topic.

‹‹ I've been given a week, mother. It's not over yet! ›› Thor retorts loudly, stopping his tensed stride. ‹‹ I know what I saw in his eyes, I heard the pounding of his heart against my chest and felt his passionate kiss last night! All confirmed this to me: he loves me, he just has to accept it! ››

‹‹ Loki is no longer your dear brother, he swore to kill you! And he certainly doesn't love you like you deserve. We lost him forever, my son, ›› is his mother's reply, raising the tone of her voice. ‹‹ We must banish him before the sliver of Mjölnir is expelled from his body and he becomes a threat to our Kingdom! ››

‹‹ NO! ››

A rabid cry rises in protest from Thor as a drastic answer to the one who is condemning Laufey's son to exile, the same who had welcomed him into her home as a second son.

Frigga smiles sweetly when the Prince challenges her with a determined, proud look.

Those eyes are so easy to read. She knows what they want to tell.

‹‹ Within six days, Loki will be my spouse, and he will be so with joy in his heart ›› Thor carefully measures his every word without looking away from his mother. ‹‹ I am not going to take him by force, I am well aware what risks we would have if he was hostile to me. ››

‹‹ You promised, Prince of Asgard. Remember, if his heart is devoid of affection for you, you'll send the Lord of Mischief away from your Kingdom, and make it so that he never again will return. ››

Thor listens to Odin's wife sermon without resentment because it includes both the sage advice of a mother to her son and an invitation to choose logic over thoughtlessness, since she dearly cares about his fate.

Frigga doesn't add anything which she doesn't consider necessary, because the future Lord of Asgard is fair, balanced, and knows how to act for the good of his Kingdom.

So the two come close to each other and end the dispute in a tender embrace, through which mother and son join their so-similar pains, caused by the betrayal of one loved by both.

‹‹ Tomorrow night, I'll have a feast at the Palace, ›› his mother enunciates, dedicating him a loving gaze while she strokes his cheek. ‹‹ You'll see, I'll make sure that your father will also come. ››

‹‹ I would be happy, though I fear it will be impossible to persuade him, ›› Thor admits, taking her hands in his.

‹‹ He will change his mind about Loki, he has always considered him his son. And now... open your hands. ››

Frigga puts her other hand over those of the firstborn, then gives to him what she kept hidden, and Thor widens his eyes incredulously in recognizing the jewel dearest to her, a precious gem of green tourmaline set in a white gold ring.

‹‹ You asked it of me so many times that finally, I promised to give it to you when you'd be betrothed. As you can see, I keep to my word. ››

Thor lets his eyes be filled with gratitude, and reverently kneels in front of his venerated mother, to honor a righteous and loyal Queen, proud as ever to be her son.

**A **warm bath, a separate solitary lunch in his room and now a walk through the Royal gardens… the hours pass slowly for Loki, as he feels suffocated in the golden cage where his arrogant brother forces him to live.

That day, Thor did not pay him any visit and again Loki wondered if he would have the intention to as he listens to the music of a distractingly talented harpist, walking through the park along the gravel path, escorted by the ever-present maids.

"Certainly the heir of Asgard will be very busy; after all he has to attend to the political duties and responsibilities. Ah, what an injustice! I'd be the right person for this job, and instead I'm reduced to make his leisure hours pass happily..."

Loki swears, and he unleashes his anger by kicking away the rubble.

"You will soon pay with your life for this humiliation, Aesir!"

The Deceiver throws a fleeting glance at the woman he had hypnotized a few hours before, examining her serene expression, seemingly animated by being the absolute follower of a destiny she ignores, ready to sacrifice herself for his cause as soon as the time comes.

That thought pleases Loki and pacifies his wrath.

‹‹ Your smile is an entrancing vision, my Prince, though I don't know if I should be happy, ›› a deep, scratchy voice praises him. ‹‹ A legend says that it is rare to survive this show, since it's a sublime announcer of death and misfortune. ››

‹‹ It's right for you to fear it, and wrong to lay your eyes on me, impudent fool. ››

Loki retorts, annoyed, looking for his sarcastic flatterer among the lush vegetation.

‹‹ Oh! The legend is also about your difficult character! After all, it has been your spicy attitude that has fascinated the Lord of Asgard, making him choose you as an exciting pastime. ››

Irritated by that impudence and the laughter of another mysterious audience, Loki finally sends away the servants with a wave of his hand, obsessed with those sarcastic voices whose owners he wants to discover at any price.

‹‹ How dare you?! Show your disgusting faces! ›› he orders, perceiving the fast onset of the Thor's faithful companions, appearing from behind some trees: Hogun, Volstagg, Lady Sif, and Fandrall, the source of all the pungent comments.

‹‹ My Prince ... ››

The Aesir greet him in a chorus, their tone intentionally mocking, as they prostrate in grandiose bows, snickering subdued when they see the mocked young man tighten his fists angrily.

‹‹ Damned! You feel as untouchable as to mock me, your lordship? ››

Loki grabs the lapel of the provocateur and forces him to stand up and look him in the eye.

‹‹ You're not my Prince... ›› Volstagg blurts out, still kneeling on the ground.

‹‹ I am the fiancée of the future King of Asgard! ›› The Prince reminds them, distracted by that meddling, freeing Fandrall from his rude grip.

‹‹ Thor will never marry you! ›› It is now Hogun the Taciturn the one who expresses their thoughts loudly.

Loki grits his teeth, his anger blinds him, and this allows Fandrall to have a sudden reaction, grinning ambiguously while he grabs Loki's groin and makes the Prince close in.

The music stops/ The maids are watching helplessly, silently showing their distress. Lady Sif supervises, standing tall, her glacial eyes focused on the mighty figure of her friend.

‹‹ What are you doing!? ››

The Prince's voice breaks, his eyes reflecting the confused ones of his aggressor and his fear.

Fandrall is lost in contemplating the androgynous beauty, whistling offensively to further embarrass the young man.

All of Loki seduces him.

His eyes are emerald lakes flawlessly highlighted by the color of his coat, a black leather coat which adheres to his frame, opposite of the shoulder pads that enhance his narrow shoulders, while the sleek trousers of the same material and high-heeled boots underline the perfect long legs.

‹‹ You will never be a true Prince, you're just the short-lived erotic toy of Thor, you're his whore, ›› Fandrall whispers in his ear, ‹‹ and our Lord typically loves to share everything with his friends ... ››

His opinion pierces Loki's proud defense and Fandrall laughs, observing Loki getting visibly pale.

‹‹ Everything, even his favorite toys ... ››

The lips of the arrogant man touch the neck of his hostage and he disgustingly laps the white skin, while the young Prince desperately tries to push his hands against Fandrall's muscled chest to wriggle free from the unwanted approach, but unsuccessfully.

‹‹ How dare you to graze me, you stupid, inferior living being! ››

Loki lives those moments with anguish, he fights against the desire to punish the impudent exploiting his bland power, but the risk of failure about his plans stops him.

‹‹ Now now, Fandrall! ›› shouts Sif, judging the man's abuse too daring to tolerate.

The beautiful Aesir warrior tugs firmly at her companion, forcing him to free Loki to get away, under the amused gaze of Hogun and Volstagg, as they prefer not to interfere with each other.

‹‹ Now follow me, Prince. We have orders to accompany you to Thor, who's waiting for too long already, ›› she speaks, admonishing Fandrall one last time with an eloquent look, before leaving the group and personally escorting young Loki.

The harpist chooses to break the moment of tension and resumes plucking the strings, hovering a melody to the air which now gladdens his listeners, and distracts them from observing the two figures, now distant, headed towards the remains of the majestic

Rainbow bridge.

Loki turns a troubled look at what remained of the Bifröst, wrapped up in the first flaming lights of a colorful sunset.

At the wounded edge from the collapse, he can see his fiancée from behind, his long hair the color of ripe wheat flowing at the will of the hot wind rising in the dusk.

Thor appears so proud, majestic, that Loki feels bewitched and his overpowering scent brought to him by the breeze returns to him to torment his senses.

"Fate wants to have us as opponents, but in another life, perhaps we would have been happy together... "

Loki resentfully admits that unnamable fantasy to himself, his trembling fingers feel his pulse beat faster when he contemplates his fascinating enemy, so engrossed that he forgets he is under the careful supervision of Sif.

‹‹ Go to him, ›› the woman urges the Prince, repressing the impulse to laugh when seeing him wince at her unexpected recall.

‹‹ Yes, of course ... ›› he mutters, but after a few steps, he turns back, undecided whether or not thank her for the timely relief she gave him in the royal gardens before.

‹‹ Do not waste your breath with me, Loki, ›› the warrior maiden anticipates him, scrutinizing him with those icy eyes. ‹‹ What I did was only in relation to my Lord, and certainly not for you. ››

‹‹ Very well then, it's useful to clarify that, ›› he replies, twisting his nose due to Sif's abrupt manners, well aware of her removal of any kind or gentle and respectful addressing.

‹‹ If you try to deceive him again, I'll kill you bare-handedly by crushing that useless muscle that beats in your chest, ›› Sif threatens him.

‹‹ You…? ››

Loki's eyes become thinner while they scrutinize his brother's companion of many battles, her long jet-black hair gathered in a disciplined ponytail falling on rich

breasts while, without any qualms, she ignores him and turns around to look elsewhere.

‹‹ It has been useful to clarify that! ››

She cries as the Prince is about to reach her closest friend, the only Lord in Asgard to whom she is willing to swear full allegiance.

Regardless of the heated exchange of wit among the worthy Lady Sif and his beloved, Thor looks absorbed in the depth of infinity, where Midgard, the Earth, is now lost forever.

Each grim thought is buried as soon as he senses the graceful footsteps of his fiancée, and he gladly prepares himself to welcome him warmly.

‹‹ I missed you, my beloved, ›› he says honestly as he gallantly touches Loki's hand with his lips, upsetting the other, embarrassed with that gesture of chivalry.

‹‹ I waited anxiously for this moment the whole day, ›› he admits.

It is now Loki's turn to surprise Thor when he offers a smile of rare gentleness, capable to heat his heart.

‹‹ Then you haven't changed your mind about us, despite the disaster of last night? ››

Loki asks him, mischievous as always, putting his arms around Thor's neck in an unspoken concession of intimacy, greeted instantly by his passionate lover.

_"What does this mean, Loki? Are you playing with my feelings again, or is it just your way to express affection?"_

The Crowned Prince fails to read those beautiful eyes, which are staring at him - enigmatic as always – as if willing to devour his soul in a sight.

‹‹ Which disaster? It has been very, very pleasant to make love to you. ››

Thor tightens the hug while observing the suspicious expression replace that gentle feeling caught for fleeting moments in Loki's eyes, but he does not mourn the return of his dark side at all, because arrogance, deceit, ambiguity are essential parts of the man he infinitely loves.

‹‹ That was obvious! Sorry to let you know, my Lord, about my own point of view, ›› the treacherous man declares, while dosing cruelty with sensuality, placing a chaste kiss on Thor's lips. ‹‹ Unfortunately, I can't say I was happy with it, as I should have been, but certainly you must have already noticed that, ›› he concludes, stealing another kiss off Thor's mouth with spiteful arrogance.

A kiss stolen treacherously, worthy of him, but Thor welcomes it with great pleasure and they are both eager to escape for long and unforgettable moments from everything around them, a moment just for them, Thor and Loki, two simple lovers.

Some coughing from Sif brings them back to reality and snatches them from their dream, so the men reluctantly return from pleasantries to a safe distance.

‹‹ Thanks! ›› she speaks as a spectator, spreading her arms as a sign of anger as her friend bows in a sarcastic way.

‹‹ If I have not satisfied you, I ask for forgiveness, my beloved, ›› Thor whispers in Loki's ear. ‹‹ Tonight we will repair my lacking. ››

‹‹ This night...? ›› Loki repeats dreamily, closing his eyes as if to defend them from the other, full of boundless hunger.

"You are his bitch."

Fandrall's voice brutally insinuates between Loki's thoughts to torment his consciousness.

‹‹ Is something wrong? ›› the older brother heckles the uyounger, noticing the look of his fiancée becoming suddenly darker.

‹‹ I ... I ... ›› the young man mutters, uncertain, still in the grip of that terrible memory.

_"No! I'm not his damn toy! "_

Loki reopens his eyes full of darkness and as if awoken from a mental stupor, he looks at the man before him as if recognizing him just then.

The Deceiver finally stirs, freed of the confusion caused by the treacherous pleasures of the flesh, a useless and harmful chimera which threatened to bend him to the will of his unworthy enemy.

‹‹ Why did you come here? ›› Loki heckles him, visibly angry ‹‹ Why do you often come to this bridge? ››

Thor remains baffled by the question, the reason for so much curiosity is mysterious to him, but he is certain to quench the unexpectedly surging anger quickly and easily through an honest answer.

‹‹ I come often, yes. It helps me to think. ››

Wrong. Damn wrong.

Thor realizes it too late, looking at the face of his beloved distorting in endless rage.

‹‹ You ... you think of your human again! And I'm your temporary pass-time that helps you forget her! Isn't it? ››

Loki's hysterical screams catch Lady Sif's interest, who, lost in her thoughts, was absent-minded until then.

‹‹ No, brother! You're misunderstanding things again! ››

Thor replies resolutely, trying to embrace him but unsuccessfully when since the other steps back promptly.

_"I'm just another trophy for him to exhibit, just as I have been for Odin! But I don't mind at all, because I hate it with all my being! "_

Loki sentences, burying once more the torment his enormous insecurity leads him to feel in the depths of his soul, driving out from his heart all the love for his older brother and the fear of not feeling important to him.

‹‹ Loki, you shall be my spouse! My choice fell on you, and no one else. You're not a pastime for the loss of Jane! ›› Thor tries to reconcile, but the hostile gaze coming from his beloved pierces him with a violence that causes him to silence.

‹‹ Liar! ›› Loki insults him, moist eyes revealing all his latent suffering to the heir of Asgard, despite his resentment and contempt-filled attitude. ‹‹ I won't eat with you, and don't you dare visit me in my rooms this evening, if you hold your life dear: you may not be as lucky as yesterday. ››

He finally warns him with chilly detachment while he turns his back and disappears fast with large steps.

Thor swears for his mistake, another one of the many that make his beloved being angry again, just when their hearts were so close.

Sif silently reaches for him, trying to help him as he looks, disheartened, at his mother's ring in his palm.

‹‹ Does this belong to Frigga? ›› his friend asks, acknowledging the ancient family charm.

Thor smiles bitterly as a response, while continuing to imagine it on his royal companion's finger during dinner that evening.

But all of this will remain only a dream.

**T**hey say the night brings good advice.

Lies, Loki thinks.

Curled up in a dark corner of his bedroom, far from the pale moonlight reflected in the glass of the large windows, the Prince is in silent reflection, tormented by his struggles, doubts, fears.

The hours pass slowly, and most importantly, anxiety and confusion grow inside him.

If on one hand he hopes not to hear the bolt unlock itself, on the other hand his eyes are fixed to the door for some time, and his heartbeat quickens at every small noise from outside.

Thor, his cowardly and unjust tyrant, is his end that he covets.

Yet Thor is also the impetuous and sensual lover, and Loki is dreaming of finding him in his bed.

_"I can't give him yet another victory over me!" he complains, dejected, while his fingers sink in his thick jet-black hair._

Plagued by his emotional turmoil, Loki does not notice the just opening door, squeaking softly.

The night has not yet come to an end.

Thanks, my angels.  
**-Translation by:**

_Alessandra Zago_  
**-Edit by**  
_Sigynthefaithful _  
_Miss Moriarty _


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four.**

**S**lowly and hesitantly, the visitor crosses the threshold to put in plan his morbid silent search for the prisoner, amid the dense darkness of the sumptuous room.

The pale moonbeams come to help his weary sight; their light is like thin sharp swords that pierce the darkness.

Thanks to them, Thor becomes aware of the young man's unexpected absence from his bed.

The bed still appears unruffled; with its purple drapery hung on gold decorative supporters, soft black silk lined pillows lying in the middle of the bed and sheets of the same fabric and color perfectly straight, proof that the ex-Prince never relaxed there that night.

_"Where's Loki? Where has he taken refuge?"_

Thor asks himself anxiously.

At the thought of the loss, the dread that he has managed to escape invading his confused mind, his heart beats harder and faster.

_"Calm down! I should watch better, he cannot escape from the building in these conditions."_

He admonishes himself.

And finally he spots Loki curled up in a darkened corner, still wearing the clothes he wore in the afternoon, the head bowed on his knees, the back arched, barely roused by the slight and regular breath.

The craving to burn the distance within a few seconds makes Thor's eyes fill with him, as his own crazy and vigorous heartbeat drums in his ears, but when he gets near, with trembling hands, longing to touch Loki's white skin, his hands ball to fists, he's suddenly angry and lets his voice thunder in hatred, resentment, sorrow.

‹‹ Wake Up! ››

Loki flinches warily hearing the threatening tone and just raises his gentle face.

Numb with the slumber that has caught him, he barely focuses on the unexpected figure before him, taking in the long wavy hair in disarray, the silver armor, cerulean eyes and thinned lips curled, detecting hate in Thor's resentful frown.

Thor.

A blissful feeling invades his heart; he would almost willingly embrace him.

‹‹ What are you doing here? ››

Loki instantly awakens his conscience and addresses the unexpected visitor with an unstable, flat voice.

‹‹ I refuted your evening visit, didn't I? ››

His instincts convey him back to his hostile pose, cautious while he sweeps away the raving joy.

‹‹ Stand up, traitor! ›› The other almost growls.

‹‹ I beg your pardon? ››

Loki widens his eyes in surprise, then takes a quick look at the arrogant man who looks exhausted and confused disregarding his ill-mannered reminder.

The passive waiting irritates the Asgardian heir who speeds up the action, grabbing his small shoulders firmly in order to lift him unceremoniously.

‹‹ Hey, what the hell are you doing?! ›› Loki complains as he looks him straight in the eyes and sees a boundless anger.

‹‹ Why the vehemence, Thor? ››

‹‹ You really mean you don't know? You ... untrustworthy, insincere, cruel liar! ››

The Prince of Asgard grasps Loki's face in his hands screaming at him harshly.

‹‹ Oh, have you acted well the wounded lover role this afternoon! And in the meantime you conspired against me once again! ››

Loki smells the strong scent of mixed alcohol in his fiancée's warm breath and, alarmed by the evidence, he tries to get free by force gripping his hands, but he only gets a vigorous tug from his harasser who violently confines him between the wall and his massive body.

‹‹ I did nothing at all! It is you who needs to give me explanations concerning your nostalgic contemplation of Midgard! ›› Loki defends himself disappointed.

‹‹ I have nothing to answer to your assumptions about me! ››

The anger Thor shows towards him is incomprehensible, Loki fails to grasp the real reason of the outburst.

‹‹ Take heed: you're utterly drunk! How dare you approach me in this deplorable condition?! ›› He furiously hisses, defeated by the clear physical superiority of his handsome ex-brother.

‹‹ This hypocrite mouth of yours will be used only to give me pleasure from now on! ›› Thor replies before kissing him arrogantly, pressing his chest briskly on the other's fragile chest, enough to hinder normal breathing.

The violence he claims his kiss with scares Loki, who pounds his fists over his ardent lover's broad shoulders in disapproval, while he shyly supplies contact.

His mate's tongue meets his impetuously, inescapably involving it, anxious to move against it, but their encounter is not kind, and the young betrothed wonders mystified why so much anger.

‹‹ You moron, you're smothering me! ›› He complains with heated cheeks and shortness of breath when Thor breaks off the contact. ‹‹ Why are you so irate? What do you mean by your sharp insinuations? I can't understand you! ››

‹‹ Stop pretending Loki, I know everything! ›› Thor blurts out, knocking his lover against the wall, a brutal action he only stops when he sees Loki grinding his teeth to avoid showing the pain he endures.

‹‹ What is it that you know, Thor? Please enlighten me too! ›› Loki asks for urgent explanations while fixing his eyes angrily upon the Crown Prince.

‹‹ Fandral told me about your pleased courtship in the gardens, in an attempt to bend his mind with your magic! ›› The suffering man reveals, confining Loki's chin to challenge his hostile gaze.

Those eyes are intense enough to communicate his bewilderment, honest incomprehension, then they burst into flames of anger and are reduced to thin slits when he finally gets the meaning of the accusation.

‹‹ I would have tried to… to seduce and enchant him?! ›› Loki repeats in disbelief, barely holding back a laugh of derision. ‹‹ That slick pervert distorted the story! He replaced the victim with the executioner! ››

‹‹ Loki! Enough is enough! Many people can testify to the inexplicable attraction you've shown towards the skillful Asgardian swordsman and the sudden outburst has raised obvious suspicions this afternoon! ›› The Prince continues unconcerned, facing the cold resentment of the alleged deceptive one.

‹‹ Let me guess: were Lady Sif, Hogun and Volstagg among those? ›› Loki heckles him in an altered tone of voice. ‹‹ Come on, it's obvious that they support their comrade! ››

‹‹ You dare throwing accusations even at my most skillful warriors, my most faithful companions?! ›› Thor furiously responds.

‹‹ And you have chosen to believe them, and not your future spouse!? ›› Loki asserts crestfallen, his eyes moistened by the frustrating realization, his teeth piercing his lower lip to push back the tears overpoweringly claiming to be set free.

‹‹ Fandral has found these abandoned amid the shrubbery... ›› His fiancée says embittered, while leaving some rune stones fall to the ground, kept to that point in a small leather bag.

Those were known mystical stones able to greatly amplify the powers of the young Lord of illusions.

‹‹ Admit it, you wanted to rip off his mind and get his services! ›› Thor implies, kicking away the mystical lethal weapons.

Loki burst into a devilish laughter; an irrepressible hysterical reaction to the clever plot of the swordsman, implicitly believed by his Lord as a clear proof of guilt.

‹‹ Very well then, apparently it's pointless to add anything else: you've already determined who said the truth. ›› Loki hisses acidly, while trying to wriggle away from his captor, who promptly reacts.

‹‹ Where do you think you're going? ›› Thor asks, tightening the grip on the prisoner's wrists to placate his every impulsive hostility. ‹‹ You and I are not done yet! ››

Thor's lips mark the delicate skin of his prisoner, tongue lapping greedily at the pale neck, the jaw line, as he mischievously builds both their pleasure with alluring movements.

They awaken strong tremors and unleash intense heat in their groins, breaths become panting, pupils expand and drink in the sight of each other's handsomeness.

Loki's urge to indulge in the sensations is obvious, proven by his deep sighs, eyes tightly closed while Thor's expert hands maneuver their belts accurately and his fingers are impudent in the space beneath the adherent fabric, longing to do away with all obstacles of clothing against his now swollen sex.

‹‹ Leave. Me. Alone! ›› Loki tries to say with a trickle of a voice, uncomfortable about the erotic attentions. ‹‹ Stop, get away from me! ››

But his voice cracks in articulating the order, as he is betrayed by his own lust dominated body that calls out for his hot lover.

‹‹ Are you trying to trick me? I'm here to get me the only thing that a living being without feelings, as you are, can offer me… ›› his fiancée replies with a cocky grin. ‹‹ … Your body... ›› He whispers against Loki's ear, before pulling him up and welcoming him between his strong arms.

‹‹ Put me down right now, you animal! I'm not your bitch! Don't touch me, disgusting creature without intellect! ››

Regardless of the offenses that he's loudly receiving from his companion, Thor goes to the prized antique nightstand, where he forces Loki to sit, abruptly throwing away every object placed above.

The two men are both struggling in defense of their dignity, the constrained lover defending himself, scratching at the cheekbones of his suitor, who yelps in pain and gives him a resounding full face punch.

Fast and handy, the Asgardian takes advantage of Loki's temporary swoon to remove their clothing and ready himself to take him by force, so that the act can begin without delay.

‹‹ You can't do this to me, Thor! It is an outrage I don't deserve! Don't disgrace me, brother... ›› Loki desolately whispers, as he perceives his own slender legs captive in Thor's big hands.

‹‹ You have disgraced me, allowing another man to take your lips! ›› The Prince of Asgard replies, with a broken voice by the immense pain that grips him only imagining his beloved in the arms of another man.

''Why do I feel so bad? What is this inner aching?''

Loki asks himself, averting his gaze from his companion's, unable to handle the growing anxiety that rises rapidly.

Although there is no basis for the accusation, Loki feels an inexplicable twinge while hearing those words, it crosses for a moment through his eyes and he feels like dying.

And it is one distraction that leaves him at the mercy of his tormentor, screaming out his agony when he feels the sudden penetration, brutal and devoid of any concern.

Pain.

Immense, intense.

It's the torture chosen by Thor for Loki.

Violent and callous Thor moves without granting him respite or enjoyment, in a sadistic vengeance.

‹‹ It hurts ... it hurts ... ›› Loki manages to sob faint whispers, acquiescent to a carnal act which hinders any physical or mental pleasure.

‹‹ Believe you me, the pain you have inflicted on me is more excruciating! ›› Thor rumbles while a solitary tear marks his face with an equally hard suffering.

Pain.

Incomparable, unbearable.

Thor's own torture because of Loki.

The allegedly betrayed young man does not give any comfort to his treacherous lover, breaking, albeit reluctantly, a solemn promise he made during the romantic walk to the bridge.

The obscene moans Thor makes accompany Loki's little, painful whimpers, the submissive man's hands are still grasping the edges of the cabinet with such force that the knuckles lose their delicate pearly color in the attempt to resist the harrowing of his cruel tormenter's thrusts.

A promise is broken, another conflict stands.

''I'll never forgive you for what you are doing; you will pay for your offense, Asgardian!''

Loki swears to himself, and awaits defeated for his lover to reach the peak of his pleasure, hoping that it will happen as fast as possible.

‹‹ The passionate kiss, your dreamy eyes on the Bifröst, all cowardly lies! You've betrayed me again! ›› Thor declares disconsolate, accompanying each word with strong thrusts, forcing his lover to hug his neck in order not to hit his head against the wall.

‹‹ I didn't seduce Fandral! Brother, listen to me, this time I didn't lie! ›› Loki wretchedly protests the unfair allusion.

His soft lips brush against the ear of the Asgardian, but it is Thor's heart to understand clearly and believe in him.

Love is the one and only cure to the deep wounds of the soul, the strong pulse seems to suggest.

The brutal punishment ceases and Loki gives himself up to the sweet oblivion of the senses that comes about, his face settles on the cool chest of his lover, who releases him and instinctively does so to diminish the contact.

‹‹ How can I believe you...? ›› Thor whispers, while fondling Loki's locks with all the kindness he can muster.

Trust.

How to feel trust for Loki, Master of Deceit?

Once clothed again, Thor lifts the unconscious young man in his arms as if in keeping a fine and fragile porcelain doll, slowly advances towards the bed, where he delicately lays him down, contemplating his beauty.

Loki, so sultry in his apparent innocence, his body seeming light and diaphanous, lying among the black bed sheets, thick dark hair blending with the silk, darkness granting him an ethereal glamour worthy of a God. A weak moan foretells his awakening, eyes opening slowly.

Contempt.

In those emerald irises the destructive sentiment hits the already tormented heart of his rejected lover.

‹‹ If you as much as touch me again, I swear to you that you'll suffer the pains of hell! ›› Decrees Loki, turning his back at Thor while the latter does not considerate replying at all as he covers Loki's comely nudity with the sheets.

‹‹ There will be a ceremony for our engagement tomorrow. ›› Thor warns.

The other Prince stops breathing.

‹‹ Engagement?! ›› Repeats Loki with a gasp.

‹‹ Exactly. Starting tomorrow we'll be officially engaged, my beloved, whether you wish it or not. ›› Thor says, eyes fixed on the naked back he sees stiffening after the news.

‹‹ I HATE YOU, ASGARDIAN! ›› Loki screams at his fiancée, turned enough so that he can show his anger and outrage, but he can only watch the door closing as the Crown Prince leaves.

Loki hopefully tries to find the rune stones all over the room, but there is no longer any trace of them.

‹‹ Dammit! ›› He swears, embittered.

The future consort is increasingly distant, and he has never felt so alone like in that moment.

**E**very servant in the great Palace of Odin is engaged, starting from the first hours of dawn, in organizing the sumptuous and solemn event to be held in the evening.

Majestic residence rooms are prepared under Frigga's indications; the wife to the Father of the Gods who gives all her sense of duty and passion for the success of the event.

She takes every single decision about choreographic drapes, tablecloths, choice of food, wine, music selection and guests of honor, a great load of responsibility that she has eagerly accepted.

Frigga knows how important that ceremony is for Thor and how much it is so for the entire realm, the day Odin announces the final alliance of his people with the Frost Giants through the union between the two young Princes, his eldest son Thor and Loki, the son of the late Lord of Jötunheim, the kingdom of eternal glaciers.

The Jötun king's successor, however, will not be able to attend the ceremony, as the damage to the Bifröst separates Asgard from the kingdom of the Ice Giants, but rumors are running, rumors about the possible absence of Odin himself, who seems not to see that bond willingly, as he has simply limited himself to listen to the wishes of the Queen and her son.

And it is the truth.

Thor asked for this bond because he's always been in love with his not-brother and Frigga is constantly worried about his happiness more than anything else, so she is ready to welcome and accept her adoptive son back to reassure Thor's loving heart.

The silk covering the cream-colored gown with long laces seems to fly as the Lady graceful moves about the halls, where the lights of day enhance the granite floors and columns, revealing their entire splendor.

With an authoritarian voice she expresses her opinion whenever an employee to the organization reaches for her to ask some question, and she patiently insures her every wish to be fulfilled, while continuing her majestic crossing and heading towards the Royal rooms.

The journey continues along to the luxurious rooms given to Prince Loki, until she firmly opens the door of the chamber where he sits in the company of his servants.

And here he is, she recognizes his turned back, surrounded by servants preparing him for the solemn event, and although he is not yet ready, it's already a lovely image.

The precious black silky veils gracefully fall about his waist, the emerald satin long robe is snug on the hips, but it is delicate at the hem where silver handmade ornaments add elegance to the fabric.

To Frigga, the encounter is a mixture of joy and agony.

‹‹ Loki... ›› She greets him in a loving tone, filling her eyes of the wispy figure that stands out among women like it was the most delicate and defenseless creature in the room.

Her entry without any announcement catches the attention of those present, unleashes amazed and intimidated shouts, her austere presence disturbs even the young man she decided to pay a visit to, who instead turns a lost and questioning look at her.

Frigga counters that look watching the expression of his face softening, the tension of the moment fading in meeting the son who she feared to lose and her affection for him returns to warm her soul.

‹‹ Mother! ›› Loki says simply, with an instinctive smile, as his heart seems to jump out his chest in recognizing the familiar figure of the Queen.

‹‹ Mother, mother mine! ›› He breathlessly continues to call her, while he rudely gets rid of the women around him and meets her face to face, possessed by the desire to clutch her to his chest, a desire fulfilled just as the distance between them permits.

The two embrace elatedly, coddling, crying deeply moved, glad to have found each other again.

‹‹ Oh, mother, please help me! ›› Loki's supplication sounds like a litany. ‹‹ Free me from this prison, free me from Thor! ››

Frigga tenderly strokes his hair; his intense plea reminding her of a child asking for the help of his mother when confronting issues bigger than himself.

But she is not only a mother, she is also a Queen.

‹‹ My son, do not think of Thor as your jailor, but as your savior. ›› She resumes sweetly wiping away his tears. ‹‹ Thanks to him are you alive and to him you owe your return to the Palace with all the honors. ››

Those words make the Prince's heart become as cold as ice; he - baffled and disgusted - looks at the woman who's now seemingly undeserving of his honest affection.

Loki stops his weeping, and listens to her.

‹‹ Thor really loves you with all his heart. ›› Frigga goes on, dealing courageously with that hateful stare. ‹‹ He has challenged the will of Odin to save you and restore your title. What you should do is show gratitude and abandon all hostility. ››

‹‹ So father does not want me here, at the Palace. ›› He manages to say, being surprised himself with the natural indifference he utters that statement.

The embrace ends, and along with it, the son of Laufey turns off any affection he once felt for his foster parents.

‹‹ Loki, my son, you should be honoring he who loves you so immensely to forgive your treason. ›› The Queen urges, austere in tone, after the separation imposed by the cold hand of the young Lord of Illusions.

‹‹ I understand. ›› He announces flatly. ‹‹ But go now, mother! It's right that I present my respects to my new Lord and I will ready myself for the event as I should have already done. ››

Without too much respect, Loki prepares to go back among his servants, but the hand of the Queen stops him suddenly.

‹‹ Thor wants you at his side! ›› The consort of Odin replies. ‹‹ Don't you understand? Of all the Asgardians he chose you as his equal partner. He entrusts you with his future children! ››

Frigga's words unleash a shiver down his spine, but he is able to conceal his inner turmoil.

‹‹ I don't exactly understand what you expect me to do… ›› He replies still mislead, upset and frightened by the unexpected revelation.

‹‹ You know what he's asking for as well as you know you can fulfill such a miracle. You are special, my son! ›› Frigga says. ‹‹ Thanks to your mystic nature you are able to create life, like only a woman can do. ›› She finally declares, leaving the Prince's hand.

‹‹ You seem to expect from me too great a sacrifice! An unbearable humiliation that would complete his domination over me! ›› Loki blurts out loudly, forcefully tightening his fists.

‹‹ It is not a shame, but an honor, an elevation of your status! From your womb will emerge the future heir of Asgard, thou shall be the instrument of fate for this Kingdom! ›› The wise Queen explains, while her adopted son disappears amongst the servants, in order to vanish from her sight.

Endless moments of stubborn silence follow, broken only by the rustle of the ceremonial robes arranged by the maids, who instantly resume their task.

‹‹ As you wish! ›› Loki's calm voice suddenly articulates.

The Queen lowers her head, in a tacit nod of respect and gratitude.

‹‹ Now go! Time flows and there are still many preparations to be finished. ››

The resignation in his voice reassures Frigga, who leaves through the humble bows of the maids, as she distractedly opens the door to her passage, lost in the torment of her maternal thoughts.

Deception or truth?

The Queen chooses to believe her son.

The older maid, perceiving the distraction of the First Lady of Asgard, goes far toward the door, as to close it.

Her fingers graze the golden knob, but as if she were prevented to act, they can't grip.

And then, coming back to sneak up in her mind, there is a bewitching voice amongst her simple thoughts.

"Your Lord orders you to recover the runes from Thor's rooms. Look for them and bring them to me as soon as possible, at any cost."

And she performs.

She abandons the room surrounded by the mute bewilderment of the other servants, who call at the Prince with their gazes, who is not resentful at all about her sudden leaving.

The powerful and evil Lord of Mischief smiles: his personal arrangements have begun.

Thanks, my angels.  
**-Translation by:**

_Alessandra Zago_  
**-Edit by**  
_Sigynthefaithful _  
Miss Moriarty


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

**H**arps, hurdy-gurdies and lutes are harmonious creators of joyful melodies; their notes fly into the immense Hall of the Palace, which today, more than ever, is stunning, and all together they admirably accompany the arrival of the guests at the engagement ceremony, which will be taking place in minutes.

It's all perfect, thanks to the Queen.

Thor observes the impeccable work with satisfaction while sipping from his glass of good wine and talking without too much conviction to his most trusted friends.

The large crystal chandeliers reflect their lights on the marble floor, extolling the natural grain of shaded pink and pearly grey; the luxurious sofas of solid wood and gold details, lined in red upholstery welcoming the honorable guests busy in talking to the beautiful Queen of Asgard, impeccable mistress of the sumptuous palace.

At the two opposite sides of the lounge, long tables full of food and drinks invite to rejoice the waiting for the event, while the large terrace offers the spectacle of the green hills, at the foot of which the private woodlands of Odin's palace stretch, of the gardens surrounding the walls and of trails that lead through to the private lake that reflects the beauty of the firmament.

At the center of the Hall, Thor keeps his closest friends around him, pretending to be interested in their futile conversations in order to deceive the nerve-racking waiting.

His wavy hair is like shiny golden threads falling kindly to cover part of the pearl-covered jacket, embellished with small diamonds along the edges. The prized material is present even in the thick necklace, in bracelets, in knee pads, and finally in the mighty belt, where a magnificent ruby stands embedded.

A long white cloak exalts his clothes, faded from pale silver to turquoise; a soft coat on his mighty chest half covers his thigh, the trousers show his muscles and are tucked in stylish brown soft leather boots.

_It's the most important day of my life, yet I cannot be happy as I would like to be,_the heir to the throne thinks, his mind wandering to the disastrous encounter with his fiancée the night before.

He would have liked to attend the event with the awareness of being loved by his future husband; he would have liked to see a strong feeling in those emerald eyes.

He wanted to feel his love.

Tormented by bitter contemplation, Thor turns his gaze to the guests of honor in the hall; he meets their sincere smiles, looking benevolent.

The news of the union between the Princes who always lived as brothers in the palace has been a pleasant surprise for the whole kingdom: Odin's and Laufey's sons, together, to the glorious future of Asgard.

The Asgardians welcomed this bond joyfully, completely unaware of Loki's dark past; his connection to the Ice Giants was simply revealed to them, and they learned that the royal wedding will bring an end to all hostilities.

‹‹ So, is this really what you want, Thor? ››

Sif's direct question compels Thor to give her his full attention, as he is parted with his intimate thoughts.

The faithful companion of a thousand battles is, for one evening, a lovely lady; her long black hair is gathered in a fine mesh, a necklace of rubies turns her skin even paler, the generous cleavage of the long soft scarlet velvet dress seduces the eyes of many men, including the Prince's, now quickly and coyly averted.

‹‹ Is it really Loki the one you want at your side throughout your life? ›› Adds the beautiful warrior, still hearing no response on his part.

Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg interrupt their speech, interested to hear the answer of their comrade.

‹‹ Yes, of course, ›› replies Thor. ‹‹ My love for him is immense and sincere. ››

‹‹ And his? Does he feel the same? ›› Fandral asks arrogantly, keeping his cerulean gaze straight into Thor's eyes. Thor confronts those suspicious eyes, although his heart aches to visualize his beloved in provocative attitudes with the blond Asgardian swordsman.

‹‹ Our relationship is still unripe, but in it I put high hopes. ›› Replies the proud Prince.

The answer makes Volstagg and Hogun exchange a quick look, an irritating attitude in Thor's mind, who feels his blood boil in his veins.

His heartbeat speeds up, the anger inflames him, the impulsive urge to yell his frustration at them over the suffered betrayal is too tempting.

‹‹ My friends, listen to me well, ›› he calls them loudly ‹‹ Loki's libertine attitude is the last of his pungent resentments, and as such it must be considered by you. Last night my fiancée and I clarified everything, and I'm not going to get into hot details with you... ››

Thor's sly smile accentuates the great lie and makes it completely believable with his teammates.

‹‹ Oh no, be quiet, I beg you! ›› A deafening burst into laughter, as Volstagg pats on his back ‹‹ All right, all right, my best wishes then my friend! I'll go restore my stomach with some snacks! ››

The burly warrior dismisses himself, followed soon by the taciturn Hogun, who smiles condescendingly in reference before heading towards the sumptuous banquet table.

The worst is over; Thor's breathing becomes more regular as soon as the figures of the two ancient warriors disappear into the crowd.

Anger is over, honor is saved.

‹‹ So, is it all resolved between you? ›› Fandral asks him, proving to be the most suspicious of all.

The puzzled expression painted on his face does not enchant the crafty lady Sif, who plays well her great disappointment out of her gaze, when Thor guarantees the happy rapprochement with a nod.

‹‹ Then, let's drink to your love! ›› She finally proposes to the rescue of the swordsman, who is getting darker and darker every moment ‹‹ We are your friends, as well as devoted Asgardians, and we just want your happiness. ››

The three warriors raise their glasses in the very moment in which the sound of bagpipes announces the entrance of Prince Loki, escorted by his servants.

Thor remains motionless, stunned by the ecstatic vision, and he feels his knees getting weaker while Loki proceeds proud and graceful towards him and he instinctively raises a hand to his heart, to feel the excited rhythm.

‹‹ Beautiful, ›› one can hear the guests whispering discreetly.

Loki's thinned mischievous eyes meet the charmed ones belonging to his future husband; he advances welcomed among the Asgardians who are bewitched by his dark allure.

Absolute silence falls among them, enough to hear the rustling of the large train that sways like a snake with each step, accompanied by the clap of high heeled leather boots, embellished on either side by small green buds.

The satin coat reveals through veiled transparencies his hairless chest, wrapped in a silver net top that exalts his androgynous sensuality.

His waist is enclosed by a delicate silver belt, the coat relaxing from the waist down like a curtain over his slender legs carrying him towards the centre of the room, showing themselves with each step, wrapped in tight black leather pants.

On his calm face are painted tattoos that soften the sharp lines of his cheekbones and reflect perfectly the color of his eyes, enhanced by a matching nuance of eye-shadow.

Shiny green or silver ornamental stones are precious accessories in his hair, soft silky dark hair falling on his shoulders, while the whiteness of his arms is a delightful contrast to the dark veils.

Thor's eyes brighten as soon as they meet Loki's ethereal figure, but Fandral is also left literally open-mouthed, his wild-eyed gaze fixed on his friend's young fiancée, while Sif looks amused at the reaction of both her shield-brothers.

‹‹ My Lord... ›› Loki bows his head in devotion when he finally reaches his future husband, the slight clinking of the jewelry woven in the strands accompanying the young man's gesture of docile submission.

‹‹ My beloved... ›› Fast and delicate, Thor takes his chin with two fingers, holds his face up ‹‹ You are a charm! ››

‹‹ I do not see our father! Does Odin not bless our engagement? ›› Loki asks him, ignoring his appreciations. ‹‹ Did Father choose to desert because of me? ››

Thor smiles with his perfect lips and his eyes of heaven.

The confusion due to the awkward tension between them has brought his beloved to admit his own weakness, and he's ready to alleviate the pain.

Love is sweet agony that binds his soul to the one which has always been his dark nemesis.

‹‹ Our mother will be his voice tonight, but he will of course attend our wedding, don't worry. ›› Thor says sweetly.

‹‹ Why do you continue looking at me that way? ›› Loki resumes, impatient with such eagerness, troubled by Thor's inextinguishable love.

‹‹ Because I love you, Loki ›› The older brother admits naturally.

His explanation is simple, honest.

‹‹ You ... you can't really believe it! ›› His protégé replies upset. ‹‹ You... you are mad! ›› Loki insults him.

‹‹ The mad one is he who thinks of giving up this wonderful feeling, ›› Thor proudly answers.

Loki is upset by that immense love, unquenchable despite their stormy relationship; passion and resentment challenge each other in his heart, battling a heartbreaking fight that transpires on his face, but ultimately he must give in once again and lays down his arms.

He smiles, his cheeks a delicious rosy shade, his irises expand and spark of true affection for his crazy lover; a sweet smile, a miraculous vision that lasts so little, but it is able to offer Thor a priceless comfort.

'_He loves me! He really loves me, his eyes do not lie!'_The Crown Prince seems to want to say, confused by his unexpected reaction.

Loki pales.

He has once again been submissive to the hated brother, whom he has pleased again.

What an unforgivable mistake, to let his guard down this way!

With terror in his eyes, panic seizes him, fear invades his heart, and he is emotionally unprepared for the event.

'_No. You will never submit to him!_'

The deceiver would try to run for cover and escape the treacherous situation, but instead gives Frigga his hand, and allows her to pass it to Thor.

'_Slave, your Lord wants you to carry out his will! Bring me the runes kept in Prince Thor's apartments. Now!'_Loki commands the hypnotized maid through psychic contact, but he receives no answer.

His companion's hand tightens on his, Loki's apparent calm expression beginning to crack.

Frigga's imperious voice brings each musical instruments to a silence: the ceremony begins.

‹‹ Asgardians! It is with joy in my heart that I ask you for a few moments of your attention! ›› the Queen claims the attention from every guest and gets with her words and gets it instantly.

‹‹ This is not the mere union between two lovers. Today, two great peoples unite in peace through their promise of love. ›› Frigga's speech goes on and Loki feels the psychological burden of all looks upon himself.

'_Damn Mjölnir! I'm not strong enough to weave illusions!'_ He thinks, distressed.

Unmindful of the solemn moment, he beats a heel to the ground as a sign of anger, while desperately trying to strengthen the telepathic connection.

'_My Lord, I cannot access the apartments of Prince Thor! I cannot get close without arousing suspicion,'_ the woman finally responds.

'_So, my brother was expecting it!'_ Loki is increasingly tensed, and Thor notices it. '_Do not go too far from that wing of the building. I'll make sure to hide your presence as soon as I can get away from here!'_

The Trickster has no choice but to intervene personally, deceive the minds of the guards and distract them from his servant entering Thor's rooms.

A perfect plan, simple, effective, if he could only be certain to have enough power to implement it, and the time to sneak away undisturbed from his own engagement party.

‹‹ Calm down, my beloved, ›› a whisper comes from his loving protector, noting that his brother's body is shaken by tremors.

‹‹ Forgive me, my Lord. I ... I ... ›› Loki says, lost, trembling visibly. ‹‹ I think I suffer from the tension of this important moment... ››

Suddenly, he puts on a reassuring smile so not give Thor the slightest suspicion of his secret projects.

‹‹ In the name of Odin, I, Frigga, his consort, bless this betrothal between Thor, son of Odin and Loki, son of Laufey. May the realms of Asgard and Jötunheim thrive in peace forever! ›› the charismatic Queen concludes the ceremony in the thundering applause of the guests.

Another battle is lost.

Loki is forced to put an end to his vulnerable emotions that would show his disappointment against an unfeeling mother who absurdly presumes to decide his fate like he was nothing more than an inanimate object.

Saddened, dejected, defeated… yet looking at his future husband's eyes that are full of sincere affection for him, Loki experiences a strange feeling of comfort, which inevitably leads him to reflect on their incomprehensible ambiguous relationship.

He now understands what pushes him away from his brother since their childhood.

He realizes that it is the light of that honest and benevolent look to comfort him and bring him to believe in himself, his words that are meant to reassure him when fear upsets him, it is the strong beat of his heart to clear his mind's anguish in times of despair.

‹‹ I'd love to kiss you now… ›› Thor whispers. ‹‹ But only if you wish it, too. ››

Loki closes his eyes, communicating the tacit permission to his request, sighing when the fervent kiss of his fiancée reaches him.

Confused, he tastes the sweetness of those lips, entranced by his sublime flavor like sweet honey, but spicy with the bitterness of a love that he is unable to accept, despite his own heart.

Loki becomes aware he loathes his older brother precisely because he is so precious to him.

_He hates him because he loves him._

**D**ance, cheerful conversations give the Asgardians new hope, glad of that union of peace between the two kingdoms.

The two Princes open the first dance together, eye to eye, the beats of their hearts in natural tune with the graceful dance, one in the arms of the other until the music stops completely.

Followed by the Queen's discreet gaze, they leave the Great Hall, headed to the secluded and romantic terrace, hand in hand.

‹‹ Be happy, my children, ›› is Frigga's affectionate wish to the young lovers.

A tender tear breaks out while observing their fingers find each other and interweave softly.

**C**omplete.

That's how Thor feels now with Loki finally at his side.

The notes silently fade away while he is intent to admire his fiancée as he is lost in his thoughts, diaphanous fingers drawing small circles on the parapet with an unfocused, distraught expression.

‹‹ You seem unhappy... What are you thinking of, Loki? Is it I the cause of your evil thoughts? ›› He asks, tormented by guilt for the terrible deeds committed the previous evening.

But the thoughts of his betrothed are about something else than abasement and bitterness.

'_Thor will be busy entertaining guests throughout the evening. I have to find a way to slip away without arousing suspicion and get those runes!'_ He goes on obsessively, telling it to himself over and over in his mind.

‹‹ Forgive me, Loki. ›› The sad tone in which the heir to the throne utters those words catches his attention and, intrigued by the unexpected introduction, Loki grants him his undivided interest. ‹‹ I ask you to forgive me for having assaulted you in your room last night, an ignoble action for which I feel great shame. ›› Thor kneels before him, his eyes filled with sincere repentance, seeking for forgiveness in his beloved's ones, which express absolute negation.

‹‹ Your pathetic words do not erase the abuses and atrocities which thou hast inflicted upon me in these days of captivity! ›› Loki hisses in a glacial voice, his fists clenched as he shows his anger in remembering the suffered violence.

‹‹ I caused pain when I just wanted to love you and be loved in turn. Never again will it happen, my beloved. ›› Thor tries to explain.

‹‹ Never again?! And would you be happy to live a purely platonic relationship? ›› Loki asks, showing off a mocking sneer. ‹‹ Would you marry me anyway? ››

‹‹ I am ready to cancel the wedding, if your heart is going against it. ›› Thor declares, sad.

‹‹ Then do it now! I don't want you as my husband! ›› Loki commands him.

‹‹ Only four days are left from now on to the wedding day. If you don't change your mind by then, you have my word that you will be free, ›› He assures him.

‹‹ Swear it to me, son of Odin, ›› his prisoner says.

‹‹ I swear. ››

Loki is suspicious as he examines his brother's eyes carefully, as they are always too transparent to hide the truth with mastery.

‹‹ Alright! ›› the expression on his face softens and he unclenches his hands.

‹‹ Re-enter the Hall now. Everyone will wonder what happened to the Prince. ››

Relieved, Thor smiles, but, undaunted, remains motionless.

‹‹ Not yet, ›› he says, his eyes searching for his beloved ones as he suddenly decides to open his free hand and show the small object guarded until then.

‹‹ But that's... that's... ›› Loki can't believe it, his eyes are full of wonder and his cheeks are heating.

Endless delight overwhelms him in recognizing the ring once belonging to the dear Queen.

He feels his heart beat so loud that he fears it will leap out from this chest any moment.

‹‹ With this ring, I give you all my love, my respect and my protection, ›› Thor speaks in a solemn tone while putting the ring on Loki's ring finger and leaving it there spontaneously.

The new owner fixes the precious jewel incredulously, perfectly fitting his finger, as if it was forged for him.

Only then Thor stands, doubtful to see a happy expression on the face of the attractive young man he loves.

‹‹ Now we can go back to our guests, my beloved, ›› the heir declares and chivalrously hands him an arm, immediately taken willingly.

After a few steps, Lady Sif goes towards them, eager to embrace her dear friend and compliment their union in person.

‹‹ Here you are, at last! ›› She greets him respectfully with an elegant curtsey. ‹‹ Thor, will you grant me the honor of a dance? ››

Instinctively, the Prince casts a glance at his companion and he's amused to see him going completely indifferent towards the dinner table.

‹‹ With great pleasure, my friend! ›› Is this enthusiastic response, reaching the center of the room with her, amid euphoric applause.

Loki quirks an eyebrow, disgusted, his lips curling into a grimace of repulsion to see them holding hands together, so in tune, so close.

He can hear the mutter about them dancing to the melodious notes; euphoric are the opinions of approval toward the future King of Asgard and Sif the beautiful warrior, faithful companion of countless battles, stunning lady for a night.

Loki's eyes get narrower and narrower while listening to those comments; the vision of their radiant faces causing excruciating heart pangs while he's drinking wine from a chalice, then another, and yet another, summoning the courage to leave the Hall and seize the propitious moment to employ his intrigue.

'_This is the moment!'_The Liesmith tells himself, yet still unable to look away from misses admiring his bright eyes and proud smile and that smile turned to another annoys him enough to prevent him from noticing the arrival of Hogun and Volstagg.

‹‹ Don't you think they are the perfect couple, Prince? ››

The warrior's voice takes him by surprise, so much that it startles him, unleashing their laughter.

‹‹ Spare me your quirks! Sif, Queen? It's so raunchy! Would you prefer a bull to a proud stud?! ›› Loki replies, instantly turning acid to their irritating laughter.

‹‹ At least she can give a descendant to the future King of Asgard! ›› Hogun replies, granting him a look.

‹‹ You might ask her…support…one day! ››The other barks, snickering loudly.

Loki gnashes his teeth, furious about their impudence to hurt him challenging his royal position once again.

‹‹ Ah, don't worry, Asgardians! The Prince will have an heir, when and if he wants! ›› Loki says proudly.

The other men exchange each other a puzzled look, but Loki's visible anger air makes them decide not to go on with the mocking.

‹‹ Now please excuse me, but I need to get away for a few moments. I am nauseated with your smell, I need fresh, clean air. ››

And with that contemptuous statement, Loki leaves the detested warriors, the shiny party, his future husband in the arms of the bitch, taking a large curve towards the exit, more eager than ever to regain his powers.

**T**wo guards outside the entrance to the sumptuous royal apartments stare at the sudden appearance of a vaguely feminine silhouette, incorporeal and undefined, shrouded by the darkness of the antechamber.

‹‹ Who goes there? ›› The guards ask threateningly.

The silent presence vanishes into thin air.

‹‹ Have you seen it, too? ›› One of the guards asks the other, disturbed by the mysterious spectral manifestation.

But there is no time for elucidation, since from the shadows the figure of Prince Thor emerges and marches fast towards them, as they pay homage with a respectful greeting.

‹‹ Our Prince! ›› They say in one voice, a little more confused, when the distance is short enough for them to perfectly distinguish their lord.

‹‹ Is all quiet as always? ›› The heir of Asgard asks them, watching both men until they clear the entrance.

‹‹ Yes, we watched over all the time, just as you requested, but no one has ever come close to this area of the Palace, ›› they assert diligently, allowing Thor to approach the door undisturbed.

‹‹ Very well. You can leave now. ››

‹‹ Very well, you can leave now. ›› Loki also whispers in the dark, stationed twenty paces away, so as to make credible the illusion shown to the guards, unaware they were facing a maid enslaved for his devious plots.

Exhausted by the enterprise he's just accomplished, the Lord of Deceptions leans against the nearest wall to rest his fatigued body and soul, but the darkness so far his accomplice betrays him when out of nowhere a hand seals his lips from screaming, and a brutal strength forces him to turn abruptly.

In a moment Loki finds himself touching the face of the unexpected intruder, his heart missing a beat in seeing his own terrified eyes mirrored in the other's hallucinated eyes.

‹‹ Enjoying yourself? Play with me, Prince! ›› The mischievous voice whispers in his ear as Fandral grips the man who has become his sweet and obsessive fantasy of every sinful thought in his strong arms.

**Thanks, my angels.**  
-Translation by:

_Alessandra Zago_  
-Edit by  
_Sigynthefaithful_  
Miss Moriarty


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

**T**he Asgardian warrior wants to punish the dark liar, caught in the act of scheming against his fiancée.

Once he silences Loki's treacherous mouth with a hand, Fandral drags him behind a pillar, away from the feeble light of the moon, at a safe distance from the guards.  
The large windows are remote and dark, the pillar is a massive barrier against which Loki is held by his attacker. Vain are his attempts to break free from the warrior's grasp, his morbid laments are too weak to draw the attention of the guards.

‹‹I knew I wouldn't have to wait for long! I have watched you all evening, waiting for your move. ›› Fandral grins ‹‹And in the end you have not disappointed me! ››  
The prince shows all his rage in an intense gaze, his hands trying to add precious inches between their compressed bodies, but the violence of the swordsman prevails again, forcing him to surrender as he pushes his head vehemently against the cold alabaster column.

Loki represses the urge to yell, as a strand of smooth hair falls disheveled on his distressed but combative visage.

Hurried footsteps, the rustling of a robe, a shadow fleeing: the wardens leave their post running after it.  
‹‹Stop, woman! Where are you scampering to? ›› The guards scream, passing steps away from the two men wrapped in darkness, without noticing their presence.  
Loki surrenders to despair, aware that he has lost the telepathic connection with the maid, now a useless fugitive, bewildered and terrified, just as a provocative gaze crosses his.  
‹‹Oh, oh! Do you by accident know something about that? ›› Fandral heckles him, amused by the chase, earning a painful kick to the ankle. ‹‹Ah, what a despicable behavior, Prince!›› The warrior grins amused, intrigued by the need to placate Loki's anger.  
The rebel young prince's legs are easily fought off by the more muscular ones belonging to the defiant swordsman; their bodies are dangerously pressed against each other, the prince's clothes are a flimsy shield against the harshness of that roguish touch.

‹‹Poor Thor, I really feel pity for him! Your beauty has bewitched him so not to notice how appallingly ugly you are inside!›› Fandral insults him, crossing the disgusted look of the charming schemer who desperately tries to squeeze his legs together to keep away the other man's virility, hard against his abdomen.  
The tattoos painted on Loki's face have long melt under horny fingers running over and Fandral's greedy lips are just about to conquer their prize.  
‹‹Don't you dare touch me, if you hold your life dear!›› The Prince rebuffs, finally free to respond verbally, turning just in time to avoid an unwanted kiss. ‹‹Get away from me, your smell disgusts me!››  
‹‹Listen… Listen to the sacrilege! I am disgusting to you?! Really funny!›› Fandral cashes in the stinging rejection with a sly grin, losing himself in those proud eyes, wild and beautiful, aggravated by the unsuccessful ploy that enhances the prince's sternness and the warrior feels the urge to tame him at any cost.  
‹‹You find me repulsive? You atrocious devourer of souls, you who feeds off the pain of those who are crazy enough to bestow sincere affection upon you! You ravenous, voracious monster nourishing on your fiancée's heart, without pity or remorse!›› The Asgardian Warrior accuses him, strongly clenching his slender wrists until the bones creak.  
‹‹Don't you dare judge me! You don't know anything about me, and you don't know anything about Thor! Your small mind cannot comprehend our complex bond!›› He hisses his hate, stoically resisting the pain of Fandral's grip.  
‹‹What kind of bond do you speak of? You don't feel anything for anyone! Do you? Or would you like to make me believe that you could fall in love... seriously?››

While demanding explanations, his face still closes in to his victim's, the Asgardian warrior falling silent for a few moments.

While Fandral is waiting for a reply, Loki thinks about it.  
‹‹_I... falling in love?_›› Loki mulls over, throwing a stray glance to his harasser without really seeing him. And then his heart misses a beat when Fandral forcibly steals an intimate touch with his lips.  
A dirty, vulgar, harassing touch. Loki receives that kiss with deep revulsion, pales feeling violated and instinctively bites the invasive, sickening tongue that violently claims his full participation.  
‹‹AH! YOU ACCURSED BASTARD!›› Fandral swears. ‹‹Now I had enough of your pathetic whims!››  
Eager to humiliate the young prince, Fandral arrogantly pushes him and makes him crash violently against the wall, confusing him enough to bend him.

‹‹Let me go, you coward, leave me be!›› The captive screams, furious but helpless in the arms of his abuser. ‹‹I'll make you regret having touched me!›› He continues to threaten the swordsman.  
‹‹No one can hear you!›› Fandral snarls, hitting him in the face, irritated by his defiant look.  
A moan escapes the proud prince, dizzy from the blow he suffered and it allows Fandral's hands to caress Loki's slender legs, pressed closed just in time to avoid an undesired touch between his thighs.  
‹‹Unbelievable, you're playing hard to get again!›› The Warrior exclaims, when the hands of the molested young prince stop his advance up to his chest.  
‹‹When Thor, thy Lord, will come to know this, he will rip you apart... ›› Loki whispers, but his words are met with the other's spontaneous laughter.  
‹‹Oh, really? And tell me, do you think he will believe your unjust insinuations and accusations against one of his most faithful battle companion?›› Fandral smugly heckles him, freeing his hands easily out of the weak grip.  
Despite intending not to give him any satisfaction, Loki cannot help but ponder on that sharp comment.  
"_He's right: Thor will believe him_."

His thoughts make him slide down slowly and relax on the ground, without energy, surrounded by Fandral's laughter.

‹‹I may not reveal to Thor your flight from the party, if only you were more kind to me… ›› He offers. ‹‹I could be discreet, you know? Everything would stay between us.››Loki closes his eyes in disgust.

‹‹My silence deserves some small sacrifice, don't you agree, my little Prince?›› Fandral seeks confirmation.  
His arrogant presumption stimulates the Lord of Illusions, making him realize that no, it's not over yet, that he can get rid of that vile man on his own, and he will do so with great enjoyment.

**L**oki does not require all of his immense power for just a few patiently and skillfully dosed tricks.  
A long breath, then he gets ready to unravel his first potent weapon.

_Seduction._

‹‹Promise it to me, Asgardian!›› He whispers, giving the other a sweet look, full of wild greed. ‹‹Promise not to betray me and I will give you power!›› His warm voice is an expert caress, able to remove the first mental defenses of his opponent.  
‹‹I will take you all night long!›› The unaware victim agrees with great yearning to have Loki back in his arms, as he grabs his narrow shoulders and helps him get back on his feet.  
It's time to show off the second weapon.

_The Lie._

‹‹As long as you want…›› The Deceiver promises in a sensual tone. ‹‹I'll satisfy every one of your desires, every command, in exchange for your silence. Do we agree?›› The long fingers are mischievously running through the blonde hair of the seduced warrior, like this absolute indulgence and complicity is delighting his libido.

‹‹We have a deal!›› Fandral accepts, eager to fulfill the tempting promise. ‹‹You are so beautiful, Loki... ›› Fandral tells him, now lost in his delusional fantasies.  
Bewitched by The Liesmith's bright emerald irises, the Asgardian is not vigilant when slender hands sweetly caress his face, allowing them ample play instead.  
‹‹You know, Fandral... I must admit that I am really astonished…›› Loki draws near to the Warrior's mouth, confusing his mind further with that act. ‹‹You're even more stupid than I could imagine!›› he states then cruelly, putting on a devilish smile.

He's satisfied and concludes his sneaky plan with the last resort, the most treacherous.

_The Treachery._

The tips of his fingers become turquoise under the Warrior's horrified eyes once he realizes too late that the situation has dramatically reversed.

Fandral is now the prey and Loki is the ruthless hunter.

The Lord of Deceptions channels all his energy in that last attack, and he does not let go until he congeals a side of Fandral's face.  
‹‹What have you done to me?›› Fandral asks stridently, anxious about the partial insensitivity Loki has inflicted upon him, pushing the prince away.  
‹‹It's useless to scream, right? No one can hear you!›› Is Loki's smug replica, quoting the words Fandral previously said. Everything seems to work just as the cunning trickster has planned.  
Finally free, Loki takes advantage of Fandral's temporary confusion and steps away from the secluded spot, heading toward the Royal chambers.  
Little distance keeps him from his runes, and even if he's feeling numb and weak he does not intend to give them up at all.  
‹‹Stop, you coward!›› Heedless of Fandral's furious cries, Loki continues his stride, focused in gathering his last forces, eyes ahead.

‹‹You will pay dearly!›› Fury and desire intermingle; pride and lust are mixed in Fandral as he tries to reach him.

Loki turns about the corner, listening with his heart pounding to the steps of his pursuer in the distance, but the vision of the massive oak door shrouded in dim light is too pleasing.  
"_The room is in front of me, I can handle it_!"

He ignores the fatigue of his body and the threats of the recovered violent harasser, just a few steps away now.  
Just a few more steps and he will get the mystical stones to amplify his powers and take revenge on all who dared to challenge him, the euphoria of the moment from the adrenaline pushes him towards his target, but his legs are too rigid, sore, can barely move.  
"_I can't collapse now_!"

Loki refuses to give in to exhaustion, he clenches his jaw and swears softly while he stubbornly keeps walking, but then slows down, giving ample room for recovery to his persecutor, who is just about to reach his goal.  
‹‹NO!›› Loki exclaims terrified, feeling himself falling again in the claws of his gruesome aggressor.

Bitter tears of anger and frustration spurt out when he feels Fandral's chest against his back.  
‹‹You have been very bad, Loki!›› The Asgardian craves for him and he pulls Loki's body against his, excited to have him back in his power. ‹‹I've had enough of your tricks! Too bad you are too weak to inflict serious damage on me!››  
‹‹Thor... ›› Loki calls in a breath like a quiet litany, in obvious confusion. ‹‹Thor... where are you?››  
‹‹Now you are seeking the protection of the man you were ready to stab in the back?! ›› Fandral scorns at him irritated, surprised to see in those beautiful eyes genuine bewilderment.  
‹‹… You go ranting now?›› Loki hisses annoyed, disturbed by the insinuation.

Fandral wonders about his radical emotional change, which for once doesn't seem theatrically rendered and finally includes honesty.  
Loki was seeking out for Thor, but unconsciously.  
‹‹You… you don't even realize that you called him, right?›› Fandral jeers, tightening his grip, making Loki moan in pain.  
‹‹Can't breathe... ›› Loki tries to complain.  
‹‹You are mad, Loki! You just impulsively asked for Thor's help, and your mind refuses to accept your own words!›› Looking at him, Fandral almost asks himself if this scared and helpless young man is the same Lord of Deceptions, so full of himself, mean and able to act evil.  
And are these the same cruel eyes now softened, as soon as he hears the name of his fiancée?

"_Loki does love him. It is obvious to me now!_"

Fandral thinks.

**A** endless rage burns inside the legendary warrior, disappointed of not being the one to light up that beautiful face at simply hearing his name.

His hands suddenly soften their grip and allow his hostage normal breath.

‹‹Let's see now how good you are at preserving your title.›› The warrior teases him, while immediately putting a decent minimum distance between them.  
‹‹What do you mean?›› Loki asks, noticing Fandral's eyes point behind him; intrigued, he turns to follow the direction.

But he does not need words in response, it is carried with the air; the bearer of an intense woody fragrance, pleasing, appealing, all too familiar to him approaches.

_Thor._  
This time, while hearing his proud unmistakable step, Loki's heart is missing a beat in recognizing his mighty figure shrouded in darkness, causing a sudden dizziness at its unexpected closeness.  
‹‹Brother!›› Loki already repents the appellative instinctively voiced by his lips, realizing that, starting that night, it is definitely unacceptable, almost offensive towards his future husband, and it is not prudent to increase his anger, evident on his handsome face.  
‹‹I've looked for you everywhere, my beloved›› Thor sets out with an angered expression, in spite of a courteous tone. ‹‹You left our feast without anyone noticing... and here you are, just a few feet from my rooms.››  
But Loki is not the only one to feel uncomfortable at those words.  
Fandral drowns his disappointments in Loki's green irises, transparent like water from the purest springs in the world; there he is lost in silent contemplation for minutes, until suddenly Thor's voice brings him back to reality again.

‹‹What are you doing here with him, Fandral?››

The Warrior grasps the disappointment in the heir's tone of voice, but has his reasons not to fear anything and intently turns to the furious lover.

‹‹Explain your presence so distant from the hall!››  
‹‹My Lord, I felt compelled to follow Loki, because...›› But Fandral doesn't end his tale, noticing Thor's complete loss of interest about his explanation, distracted by studying his young lover.  
With an unhappy look, he observes the heir of Asgard approach his bewitching fiancée; with twisted guts he watches Thor's hands force Loki's gaze to meet his, bringing Loki's face closer to his face.  
His soul is burnt by the hungry flames of jealousy.  
No words are needed for Thor to understand the deep repentance of his beloved, who has always been driven to mistakes by his immense need for appreciation.  
A magnificent wounded angel, this is what Loki has always been for him, unable to fly, without someone's help: his help.  
Loki holds his breath when his loving companion gently kisses his mouth and lets his fingers slide tenderly over his face, closing his eyes when he lingers at the places where his make-up is heavily ruined.  
And then Thor notices the ripped fabric where one can see the camisole through the humid black veil.  
All doubts about Fandral's presence are suddenly clarified.  
‹‹My Lord, I... ›› But Loki quiets when one of his lover's fingers rests on his lips to claim immediate silence, and he awaits the verdict anguished, expecting a terrible punishment.  
‹‹Go to your rooms now. You must be tired by now and the feast is over. ›› Is Thor's reply, a smile of much affection added. ‹‹Good night, my beloved. ››  
With a chaste kiss on the mouth, Loki obeys him, astonished by his forgiveness, but visibly relieved, watched by an appalled witness – Fandral.  
‹‹Why? He would have stabbed you in your back right this night!›› The warrior loudly complains, while Loki's smile before obeying the elegant ensuing instructions  
infuriates him.  
Thor and Fandral battle it out with hateful stares, both listening to the seductive rustle of the deceiver's clothes; like two statues of salt they do not react until the scent of his body has faded away.  
Only then the Crown Prince unleashes his latent rage, pouncing on him whom he considered a trusty companion and one of his closest friends.  
The prince's scream of insane jealousy shocks the swordsman with unintelligible surprise.  
They grasp each other's shoulders hard, confronting hateful gazes, backing away from the weight of the joint grip, until Fandral finds himself with his back against the cold marble wall.  
‹‹THOR, CALM DOWN! Have you lost all common sense?!›› The abusive warrior shouts at him.  
‹‹Listen carefully to my words, Fandral! Should your eyes throw that perverse look at Loki again, you'll pay the insult instantly! Have I made myself clear?›› Thor threatens him loudly, his voice a furious snarl.  
The bluntness of Thor's command unbalances the legendary swordsman. He's caught by surprise and does not deny his obsessive interest in the mentioned charming young prince.  
‹‹Now remove yourself of my sight!›› The prince orders him, troubled by this unexpected betrayal, turning his back, yet being still ready to turn down any possible protest.  
But Fandral has nothing to answer.

He quickly turns to exit the premises, experiencing the icy feeling of defeat.

And great is his despair.

**A** bitter sigh escapes Loki while he lets his gaze roam around the room, his crystal cage.  
The satin robes fall to the ground while he goes toward the refined bed and covers his skin in fine silk linens, eager only to rest.

Exhausted from the evening's strain, he neglects cleaning his makeup and disposing of the little gems in his hair, but the fatigue is not enough to grant him much sleep.  
Torment, anxiety, loss. Images of the kind come across his mind, evoking the memory of the precious jewel he received as a gift, together with Thor's moving declaration of immense love and eternal loyalty.

"_If you lie to yourself that I can be tricked with some cuteness and precious gifts, you're very wrong, Thor!"_

Loki asserts, in an effort to suppress the feeling of euphoria, deeming it insane and dishonorable and certainly in stark contrast with his other thoughts.

He then decides to give body to the reflection taking the ancient ring off his finger, a gesture apparently simple, yet difficult to accomplish.  
Trembling fingers lay the refused gift on the pillow next to him, where Thor put his face in a night of unbridled passion, he also unwillingly appreciated. Thor, his eyes, his comforting smile, his golden skin…  
Loki's heart cries out his great desire, powerfully beating in his chest and challenging his dark mind, which doesn't allow him any kind of caring for his jailor.

_"I'm going mad! Better to seal this disastrous day and not think of anything. Everything will be clearer tomorrow and I will be prepared to fight again_."

He calms down and when he is ready to give in to the oblivion of the senses, his eyes perceive something in the shadows of the curtains.  
It is soon revealed to be a rose of perfect scarlet petals and a small note that Loki unrolls immediately, eager to read the mysterious contents, with his heart pounding and an intense chill down his spine.

_"The rose is the flower that suits you most,  
Majestic in its sublime perfection.  
A fragile flower, in need of plenty care,  
But at the same time strong,  
With thorns that fight distracted watchers.  
Its beauty is only given free if they accept small stings.  
Removing its thorns would be an insult to its nature.  
You are like a rose to me, my lovely sweetheart,  
I honor and love you as a whole."_

Drunk by the sweet scent of the petals, Loki kisses the delicate flower and smiles in its softness.  
A striking texture, much similar to Thor's lips.

"_So I'm really in your heart... But would it be the same if she could come to you?_"

This thought haunts Loki, who's lying in a bed suddenly too big for him alone and he's closing his weary eyes, jealously keeping in his hands his loved one's gifts.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

**A **rose of a rare, disarming beauty to captivate the embittered and reluctant holder, engrossed to contemplate it for some time, heedless of the handmaids who ply their trade around him to prepare him for another duty owed to his title.  
The scarlet petals draw intense iridescent shadings from the dim light, their color so dark that the rose looks almost black, in stark contrast to the original intense crimson of the petals. Welcomed by an impressive porcelain vase, Loki took care to place the flower in an antique niche next to him, so that he can enjoy its sight during the grueling preparations. A comforting vision, which helps him ignore the women's hands on his body, and tolerate the unwelcome suit made of black leather, twisting his nose in distaste while seeing shiny silver motifs on tight sleeves, trousers, and small emerald gems both on the collar and on the sides of the boots.  
‹‹ Be gentle, so I can take a breath! How clumsy you are, dammit! ›› He complains when the maid closes the zipper purposely placed to exalt the sinuosity of his back.

‹‹ Forgive us, Prince! ›› She is quick to apologize, knowing well the bad temper of their Lord, but he is now lost in intimate thoughts, sweet and bitter at the same time.  
Today Loki has to have lunch with the Queen and Thor, his future husband, in the same room where they celebrated the engagement just a few hours ago.

Two more days before he would have presumed that event - his intolerable humiliation - a formalization of his captivity, but now Loki is not so sorry to have lived through it.

He is forcibly imagining how it may be to be bound for life to his former older brother.

_"Do you really love me Thor? Do you love me so much to accept everything that I did to you? "_

He continues to wonder, wondering also why his heart is beating stronger every time he is rethinking the words on the small parchment, jealously kept between his fingers.

_"Would it be the same if Midgard wasn't lost? Would you nevertheless choose me, even if you could see her? "_

He grinds his teeth to evoke the image of Jane's sweet face, the human who made his brother fall in love with her unquestionable inner beauty.

Jane, devoted to high ethical and moral principles, so suitable for a man like Thor.

And he, Loki?

Quite the opposite to a faithful and loyal companion.

'How do you think you can compete with a woman like that?'

Impossible.

_"You will never be a true Prince, you're only Thor's temporary bed toy, you are his whore."_ Fandral's harsh statements echo in his head and intensify his fear of being only a plaything for his betrothed.

_"And if that animal had been right? Besides, Thor forced me to make love to him like I was his property." _

The parchment shrinks when his hands fist to vent frustration, but the handmaids don't realize his torment, although they're admiring the gentle oval in the discrete reflection of the mirror.  
Loki is a master of deception, his expression remains impassive while despair ravages within.

The soldier guarding outside makes a sudden entrance and stops at the threshold, honoring the Prince with a respectful bow.

‹‹ Her Majesty the Queen and Lady Sif ask permission to enter, my Lord. ›› The man announces, minding well not to meet his gaze.

Loki raises a hand to dismiss the handmaids and receives puzzled his female visitors who perform a respectful bow, even if the gesture is not reciprocated.  
‹‹ My Prince! ›› Loki's gaze, full of hate, rests on Sif's arrogant smile.

She pays him homage greeting him with convoluted theatricality.

‹‹ Forgive our impromptu visit. ›› The beautiful Warrior continues, amused by the impatience on his face. ‹‹ You look splendid, our Lord Thor will be charmed! ›› She concludes the humbling elocution that so irritates the haughty Prince.  
‹‹ I can't expect an appropriate attitude from a vulgar woman like you, ›› Loki retorts, pleased to wipe off her arrogant look.  
‹‹ Prince Loki, future spouse of the heir of Asgard. ›› Even the Queen tries pleasantries.

She lifts the long purple robe in her hands to ease her pace while advancing towards the ethereal young man.

‹‹ Mother … ›› He says respectfully through gritted teeth, wary for the unexpected visit.  
‹‹ My beloved son, let me hug you. ›› She asks when she finally reaches him.

Loki wants and fears their closeness, as he fears that the gesture does not reflect in any way the emotional participation of the woman.  
‹‹ I'm so glad to have you back! Fate was magnanimous with me! I am again by my two beloved sons, that I so feared to lose in an absurd fight for the throne! ›› The Queen soon disbands the cold embrace to take his hands in hers and admires, moved, the ancient family ring, until Loki frees himself from her grasp, visibly upset.

‹‹ What do you want? What is the reason for your visit? ›› He questions without fake pleasantries as he uncomfortable diverts his gaze, unable to hide his feelings. ‹‹ If you're coming to remind me my duties towards my husband, I have them in mind. Leave now! ››

The maidens turn away from the two royals, the guard chooses to go away and return to his task, Sif shakes her head somewhat aggrieved, but she does not intervene to support the Queen.

Frigga is hurt by his rejection, the glacial aggression against her hurts her mother's heart, but the eyes of her rebel son show regret for his harsh words and make her not to give in yet.

Loki's affection is still alive and strong.

His mother quietly rummages inside the old dresser where she retrieves a brush, the same that Loki transformed into a stiletto two nights before to attack Thor.

_"I'm the Queen of Asgard, I'll be strong and I will address his cruelty to win his future love."_

Frigga says to herself, holding the brush to her chest.

She breaths deeply to recover determination and sternness, before turning and disguising her pain with a smile full of love, the only effective weapon against him in her power.

Gently placing her hands on Loki's shoulders when next to him again, their image reflecting in the large mirror, side by side, an ephemeral family portrait.

‹‹ Let me help you, my son. ›› Is her simple request, with veiled eyes veiled in nostalgia.

The Queen combs the silky dark hair with touching tenderness and she feels with relief the young Prince softening under that loving care.

Mother and son together, together again.

‹‹ If I speak and act intransigent, now and in the future, it will only ever be... for your own good. ››  
Her voice breaks, her hands stop, her mouth presses delicately on the crown of his head and kisses it with all the love she repressed until then.

Loki feels his mother's tears wetting his forehead, but he goes on impassively watching his image in the mirror and forces himself to ignore her obvious suffering.  
‹‹ You must believe this: I love you as much as I love Thor. ›› The woman confesses.  
‹‹ Truly? ›› The young man asks amazed, trying to read her eyes while taking in that statement, so twisted for him.

She nods to confirm the revelation, and after one last caress to his beloved face, Frigga finally turns and exits.

Loki shakes with harsh chills, as if the temperature in the room has dropped suddenly; he turns to observe her dignified exit accompanied by Lady Sif, unmindful of good manners, not saying goodbye as he should.

It's painful for Loki having to admit his unchanged need of her motherly warmth.

Returned to the attentions of dutiful servants, the Prince lets out a slight sigh, but none of them is aware of his inexcusable weakness.

**T**hor detests waiting: his warrior nature has done poorly for his patience.

The heir nervously drums his fingers on the banquet table due to the wearing time spent expecting his beloved while his mother pours some wine in three golden chalices, trying to fill the waiting.

Sitting at the large table in the center of the room, the Prince of Asgard looks distracted at the vast surroundings that appear even greater in their renewed somberness.

The curtains conceal the door windows of the terrace; daylight radically changes the room where the ceremony of betrothal with the only person he desires to have for ever at his side took place. Loki.

Beloved brother, precious friend, deadly opponent, and now, for his own immense joy, faithful companion.

**L**oki adores making an entrance onto the scene; it's in his nature to push it, constantly looking for attention through morbid histrionics.

Showing up in the dining hall an hour in delay, he knows exactly how to pose for Thor to forgive his lack of respect without any complication.

And he makes no mistakes.  
His sinuous walk emphasized by the height of the heels draws the attention of his betrothed; the erotic magnetism of the black leather clinging to his legs, the long green cloak, which sways behind like a deadly and beautiful snake exalts his innate charm.

‹‹ My love! ›› Thor heads towards him, meeting him with such ardor that he flips his chair with his red velvet mantle and drops it heavily on the polished marble.  
It's sweet for Loki to feel enclosed in his strong, protective arms again, as he laughs for that momentum of impulsive euphoria.

His fiancée's arms enclose his hips and the younger man is pulled off the ground.  
‹‹ So much fervor, my Lord! ›› He exclaims amused.  
‹‹ It's the excitement of meeting you! I almost feared you wouldn't come! ›› He whispers to the Prince, smiling happily. ‹‹ I'm glad you're here, I missed you like I miss the air I breathe! ››  
‹‹ The fault is yours and your horrible taste of clothing. ›› Says the younger man ‹‹ This attire demanded an enormous extent of time to be fitted to my figure! It's impossibly complicated ... and uncomfortable as well as vulgar! ›› He hisses pungently in Thor's ear, sending shivers down his spine.  
‹‹ I say that every minute of waiting was well spent, ›› Thor replies. ‹‹ It is really worth it, you're beautiful Loki! ›› Thor tells him, looking at him with eyes full of love.  
‹‹ Barbarian! ›› The younger prince replies, with a haughty smirk, eyeing the severe dark clothing under the silver armor.

‹‹ Spoiled brat! ›› The Thunderer retorts, bringing his lips closer to those of his sensual teaser, to claim a long, passionate kiss returned once without hostility.  
Pleased by the persuasive dance of their tongues, the two lovers are lost in each other until the Queen decides to pull them back to reality.  
Her clapping is an obvious warning for the servants that they can start bringing in the courses, so, obedient to her call, they cross the threshold, carrying huge silver trays heaped with delicious steaming dishes.

‹‹ My children! Take a seat next to me. ›› Frigga urges them gently. ‹‹ You will spend pleasant moments together later, but now let me enjoy your agreeable company. ››  
‹‹ Sorry, mother. ›› Thor says embarrassed, promptly retrieving the fallen chair in the silent laughter of his two companions.

Sitting himself at the head of the table, Thor turns a smug look to his left where it meets Frigga's serene face, then to his right, pausing to contemplate Loki's beautiful eyes turned towards the other end of the table.

His happy demeanor fades away; Loki's disappointed.  
Thor knows what Loki's thinking.

‹‹ Our father will sit with us, soon. ›› He says.

Loki hears the compassionate voice breaking through his intimate thoughts and, ashamed to have been caught in a moment of vulnerability, goes back to his usual attitude.  
‹‹ I don't care about him. Three more days and I'll be free to choose in whose company I'll have my meals. ›› He acidly retorts, while tasting a mouthful of spicy meat from his plate. ‹‹ Ah! This is disgusting! ›› He complains loudly.

The long fingers seek the cup, leading it to his lips, and he drinks, eager to remove the unexpected nauseating taste as soon as possible.

‹‹ Loki! ›› Thor chides quickly, disillusioned in seeing Loki's hostility resurface so soon.

Something in the Trickster's eyes changes drastically, as he is still distressed.

The gleaming emerald irises fade into an eerie crimson colour, his diaphanous skin takes a slight tinge of turquoise, the thin lips recall the intense color of blood.  
Just a few moments, and then he turns back to normal, but it's enough to upset Loki, who instinctively checks the horrified look of his betrothed in a silent request for explanations.  
‹‹ You don't feel well, my beloved? ›› Thor enquires of his condition, seeing Loki pale and rising a hand to his chest.

‹‹ What … what happened? What have you done? ›› Loki says, but it is clear by now by Thor's baffled look that he's totally foreign to Loki's sudden illness.

Somebody completely different is responsible and he suddenly knows when looking in her crystalline eyes brimming with tears, from the violent blush of her cheeks, from the tremor of her fingertips.  
‹‹ Forgive me, if you can … ›› Frigga manages to say in a broken voice, her face marked with the agony of a mother forced to hurt her own son.  
‹‹ YOU! You've been to ...! ›› Loki hisses in pain, pointing his finger at the cause of the cryptic malaise. ‹‹ You, damned Asgardian, you betrayed me again! You have no right to decide my life! ››  
Anger, dismay, pain.

The deceived young man brings a hand to touch his flat stomach, his breath becomes labored, sudden cold sweat pearls on his forehead, as a colossal heat assaults his insides, alternating to intense piercing pain forcing him to cry out in discomfort.  
‹‹ Loki! ›› Upset, Thor leaves his place to help his visibly troubled companion, but his support is not well received.

‹‹ No! Do not come near me! ›› Loki yells at him, punching him in the chest with frustration, while he bursts into desperate tears.  
‹‹ Stop it! Don't dismiss me, I mean you no harm! ›› Thor is upset by the inexplicable occurrence and tries to appease his lover's panic with all the affection within himself.  
‹‹ Don't touch me! ›› Loki shouts and leaves the table to avoid any physical contact with his fiancée, trying to reach the exit.  
‹‹ NO! Come back! ›› Thor prays loudly, but it's not enough to stop his lover's hasty escape.

Thor sighs broken-hearted, looking dismayed at the large door for moments that seem to last an eternity.

‹‹ Why, mother? ›› He questions her. ‹‹ Your thoughtless deed ruined everything! I do not know what wicked trick you have inflicted on Loki, but I lost his hard won confidence and it is only your fault as it seems! ›› He says, while he furiously advances towards her, his face hardened in anger.  
‹‹ It is the will of Odin, my son. I followed your father's strict command; he deemed this necessary for you to join in marriage with his blessing. ›› Frigga tries to justify her actions facing her son's rage she knows she well deserves.  
‹‹ What did our father demand of Loki? Speak to me! ›› He urges for enlightenment.

The Prince's question does not receive any explanation.

The Queen remains composed, still in place, despite the chilling shouts of the wild warrior, her eyes fixed on his clenched, quivering fists, aching to quiet his restless mind.

Frigga, wise ruler ready to make difficult choices, even the extreme sacrifice in order to defend her beloved children.

That wretched fate requires of her this day her honor to be sacrificed in order to protect the union between the two young princes, worshipped and loved.

The fair Queen has fulfilled her duty; she did not falter an instant.

She's willing to pay the cost with her broken heart, shattered into thousand pieces.

**A**fter leaving the palace, Loki finds sanctuary within the peaceful quietness of the Royal Garden. The Prince looks at the placid waters of the private lake, where magnificent swans have found plentiful accommodation. Attracted by the elegant birds, graceful in their bearing, he's lost in his thoughts.

_"My body begins to rebel against my mind. I have to find a way out, or it will be the end for me."_ He says to himself, while his fingers play with a delicate orchid plucked from the lush lawn, and, distracted by the rhythm of his own heart he is swiftly taken under magical influence.

The Lord of Deceptions lowered his guard, and fell into the trap.

He is aware of the arcane spell that struck him defenseless as his body is bent inexorably to its powerful effects.

Witch blood, skillfully mixed with wine he drank from his cup, absorbed without having any suspicion.

As an undisputed expert sorcerer, he recognizes the uncommon ritual, through which he has acquired the ability of a woman to procreate.

Thereafter it shall be sufficient to lie one night with his fiancée, to accept the fertile seed in his womb, and Odin, Allfather, ruler of Asgard, will finally have what he expects from the two princes: an heir to his Kingdom.

Loki does not intend to grovel to the hated King, but it won't be easy to resist the call of lust.  
Because of the spell his libido is increased and blurs every sparkly thought; the magic pull to join his charismatic fiancée in flesh and soul amplifies his natural desire raised in recent heated nights.

_"I won't let myself be lost to the weakness of my body. I won't allow you to control me, Allfather!"_ He proudly avows.

Forcing himself to take in long regular breaths, he ignores the thrumming in his ears and rise of body heat, focusing his interest on a majestic black swan, floating apart from the others, perhaps rejected because it's different.

That unusual swan, singular, distinct, swims away from the others.

_"I understand well how you feel, my little friend." _

Loki cannot help but compare himself to the black swan.

‹‹ Alone. ››

The idea in his mind echoed in an unexpected voice, blatantly mocking.

Fandral.

Emerald eyes suddenly meet the glacial ones of the intruder while his body is too close to him and he feels all his warmth, despite the mighty armor, a feeling that sets his impaired senses aflame.  
‹‹ What are you doing here, remote from everything and everyone? Where are your servants? Where is your Thor? ›› The swordsman asks.

Loki has never felt so afraid of him as in this moment.

‹‹ Go away ... you idiot! ›› Loki insults him, resisting to the impulse to kiss those lips, suddenly turned irrationally attractive.  
‹‹ There is something different in the way you look at me … ›› The Asgardian warrior ponders, taking in his blown pupils and the slight blush on pale cheeks. ‹‹ Is it perhaps a perverse attraction to your tormentor what I read? ›› His hot breath confuses Loki, craving to taste that blasphemous mouth with increasingly fierce beats, his hot body trembles, pleading to join that handsome man , but he instantly repents.  
‹‹ You see what you want to see! ›› The cunning Trickster defends himself, but his words are empty.  
Fortunately, pride comes to the rescue, saving him from committing an unforgivable error and stopping his womb from becoming a hot shelter for the future descendants of one he hated fiercely.

‹‹ NO! Stop! ›› Loki cries out, venting his frustration from the conflict between flesh and mind, rejecting Fandral's daring hands. ‹‹ You know what I'll do? I'll ask Thor to give me your head on a silver tray as a wedding gift! ››

Fandral consents to the refusal at the last moment, partly amused.  
Fickle, misleading, Loki - irresistibly fascinating.

‹‹ You're like a peregrine falcon, a quick and skillful predator, impossible to capture. Thou will never grovel to anyone! ›› Fandral voices his thoughts loudly, while he watches Loki slide away with hurried steps .

_"A Peregrine Falcon." _

Loki's smug smirk is back. He finds Fandral's comparison spot on, but his silence, as he eagerly wants to return to the Palace, as far as possible from the swordsman, guards his thoughts.

"_Damn it! I need those rune stones now, more than ever, but there's no time to wait for a suitable opportunity to break into Thor's rooms ... I'll have to rethink my plans."_

The deceiver considers, obsessed with retrieving the mystic stones, his last hope to regain his much desired freedom.

In the meanwhile, Fandral observes the ethereal figure of Loki blurring increasingly against the horizon.

"_Three more days to the wedding, but before that date, you will be mine. And after that, you will be dead!"._

An irresistible and seductive fragrance of almonds.

**A**s it often happens at dusk, Thor heads towards the Rainbow Bridge, a silent ritual he repeats ever since Loki's madness forced him to cause damage beyond repair.

An important place for the Asgardian heir, as it helps him mend his confusion, torment, insecurities, and find himself, his lost peace, his balance.

On that bridge he swore he wouldn't make any more mistakes, when he thought Loki was hopelessly lost to the void.

The universe answered him, acceding to his loving heart.

Love and death.

Thin is that border for Thor.

**T**he ramparts are wrapped in the dark mantle of night, the towers are mute sentinels, iridescent in the moonbeams to such an extent that they reflect in the Lake like huge liquid crystals.

Mysterious, the night; the moon makes it strange.  
It looks so big and bright compared to the obscure nine worlds visible to the naked eye in a rich and bright firmament enthralling the eyes of Prince Thor, who stands at his window in contemplation for a while now.

The creaking handle warns Thor that he is no longer a solitary witness to the spectacular view and he instinctively turns to watch the mysterious guest.

The prince looks puzzled at the silhouette that crosses the threshold.

His heart takes to beat furiously when recognizing the figure, even partly hidden by darkness.

Excited about the unexpected visit, Thor props his naked back against the wall in search of instant support. His hand instinctively seeks for the leather purse where he placed the magical runes, feeling it between the massive belt and pants fabric.

‹‹ A beautiful Moon, isn't it, my Lord? ›› Loki mutters in a velvety tone, advancing few steps just to show his face.

Thor watches Loki walking towards him, beautiful, sensual, provocative, as no woman will ever be to him.  
‹‹ It's your work, isn't it? ›› The heir says, pleased to see him. ‹‹ You have bewitched the sky, haven't you?! ›› He heckles Loki, hearing a sly sneer as a tacit confirmation.

‹‹ I did it for you, my Lord. ›› Loki gently whispers.

His thinned eyes are mischievously observing Thor's sculpted abdominals, so inviting.  
Thor notices his particular interest; that look makes him feel like a valuable spoil, but it intrigues and excites him.  
‹‹ Due to what? ›› He asks, curious.

Loki does not respond with words, but he smiles, while his long fingers trail over Thor's chest, slipping to his belt, where they are captured by strong, calloused hands.

Thor observes his enigmatic face.

There is something devilish in those emerald eyes, the cold sneer is disturbing.

But it doesn't matter to him; he does not intend to investigate the reason for Loki's presence.  
Loki is in his room now; he wants to make love to him and craves him.

Deception or truth?  
It's no longer relevant for the utterly in love prince.  
Nothing has to make sense now.

**-Translation by:**

_Alessandra Zago_  
-Edit by  
_Sigynthefaithful_


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

**T**he elegant mantle glides on the wide purple carpet covering the floor, exposing Loki's shoulders to the stroke of Thor's naughty fingers.

A touch which makes him melt in the moonlight.

‹‹ I wanted so strongly to have you right away and now it's real… ›› Thor's voice is caressing as he lays fond

kisses on his beloved's lips and on his lithe shoulders. ‹‹Tell me that you truly want me, that this is not another deception! ››

‹‹ Read my eyes… ›› Loki's says theatrically. ‹‹ Let them take away the anxiety that troubles yours. ››

An ambiguous gaze confuses the other man, hypnotizing, binding him.

‹‹ Listen to my heart … ›› Loki says again, approaching slowly, seeking to reduce the distance between them to nothing. ‹‹ Let my heartbeat respond to your questions. ››

His hand, searching for the Crown Prince's right one and finally taking it, leads it to his chest, so that Thor can feel his sincerity.

When Loki smiles, Thor loses a beat to that vision, subjugated by the beauty of his androgynous features.

Hearing the intriguing sound of a zipper sliding, Thor must force himself to wait while Loki slowly moves his

persuasive fingertips.

After taking off his shirt, the rest of his clothing falls on the soft tapestry, easily following the mantle.

While his heart pounds strongly in his chest, Thor is almost afraid to lift his glare and bask in the vision of those perfect abdominal muscles … but the almond perfume rising from Loki's skin calls upon him and he rests his turquoise gaze on him.

_Thor looks at him._

Loki is bright like a star, his complexion of an unreal bluntness, as the eternal snow of the kingdom he originates from.

_Thor hears him._

Greedy hands touch the bare chest, smooth and soft, glide to the hips, much alike to a woman's, grasping them to lead that sinuous body alongside his, enjoying the pleasing touch of their torsos.

_Thor listens._

Loki's breath is labored; a disapproving groan escapes him when Thor teasingly kisses the corner of his mouth.

Heart against heart, their lips meet and blend, they blend into one.

Loki's kiss is violent, his eagerness in claiming intimacy is out of control, almost scaring his mate, initially clumsy because of the unexpected fervor, left almost breathless by the intrusiveness of the overconfident tongue.

But passion takes over and, overwhelmed by the irrational desire for him, Thor finds the audacity to face the erotic challenge of his lover, resuming his dominant part and setting the rhythm of that stolen kiss finally properly paid, until he forces the other to stop for lack of oxygen.

‹‹ Do you still have doubts, my Lord? ›› Loki asks, the emerald irises sparkling with a mysterious light.

‹‹ Come here! ›› Thor commands, cupping the dear face in his palms with the sole purpose to resume their effusions.

The moon behind them is the silent witness to their ambiguous union where they duel sexually, savoring the opponent's mouth as if they intended to devour each other. Small bites on his diaphanous face and neck are Loki's punishment.

Loki challenges Thor's arrogance each time he is forced to give him his hot lips with scratches inflicted on his back by sharp fingernails. He groans instinctively as his manhood wakes up and swells when Thor's firm handgrip grabs a leg and lifts it up.

‹‹ You're so beautiful when you loose yourself, my beloved! ›› The Prince pants, fascinated by the ecstatic expression

painted on Loki's face, cheeks heated, dreamy eyes, lips tightened to contain more of the indecent sighs.

‹‹ Let me reward you for the many delicious attentions, my Lord. ›› His fiancée declares mischievously.

Thor laughs because he knows that tone too well, one of veiled resentment whenever Thor catches Loki in

embarrassing situations, or at times when he involuntarily shows vulnerability.

‹‹ It is required of me to satisfy your high demands! ›› Thor replies.

The excited seducer falls into the same trap as soon as he feels Loki's fingers slide inside the fabric of his pants, a nice touch that unleashes a jolt of adrenalin straight to his brain and makes him gasp in a lewd manner.

But the sensuous courtship is suddenly stopped, the Asgardian heir seizing the other hand dangerously

approaching the little bag secured to his hip and he automatically stops the action.

‹‹ Ow, you're hurting me! Stop it! ›› Loki protests against Thor squeezing his hand, a few millimeters from the object.

The iron grip is painful, full of anger and reproach, as Thor's look is.

‹‹ You're just incorrigible! I was wondering when you would have tried to steal them. You won't have them back Loki, you'll have to be content with your mild power and my immense affection for now! ››

‹‹ I did not mean to fight! Is it too complex for you to understand what I was going to do? ›› Loki replies indignantly.

The raging Thunderer looks at him, distracted by this verbal defense.

‹‹ You have just tried to steal the runes from me! Do you believe me to be that much of an idiot? ›› Thor furiously blurts out.

‹‹ I just tried to get rid of the clothes you wear, accessories included! I want you, Thor! I want you now! ›› Loki explains loudly.

With unexpected swiftness he frees his hand from the grip of his wary companion and throws the

offending bag well away from them to demonstrate the honesty of his intentions.

‹‹ If it be thus ... ›› The heir says, lifting his incomprehensible fiancée in his strong arms.

‹‹ Hey!? ›› Loki snarls at him, instinctively throwing his arms around Thor's neck, surprised by so much unexpected impetuosity.

With a few long strides the Asgardian Prince reaches the large bed, where he finally lays his beloved amidst the soft sheets.

‹‹ I will satisfy your need, my love. ›› Thor states, placing himself over the Silvertongue in a hurry.

Loki scans him with thinned, treacherous eyes for a moment, but finally smirks at his new-found resourcefulness.

‹‹ I trust your skills. I hope them to be considerably more reliable than your intuition … ››

The Trickster taunts, while the heir throws his belt over an old chair, not far from the bed, with amazing accuracy.

‹‹ None of my lovers has ever had anything to complain. ›› Says the Thunderer proudly, an answer that attracts a taunting sneer of his companion. ‹‹ And believe me, I've had many confirmations! ››

‹‹ Lovers... like lady Sif? ›› Loki asks unwisely, prompted by his obsessive jealousy.

‹‹ Sif?! ›› Thor repeated, surprised by the question. ‹‹ Are you serious? ›› He means to make sure, but the wounded expression painted on Loki's face is clear.

‹‹ Answer me! ›› Loki searches his face for transparency, with cheeks heated with embarrassment. ‹‹ Was Lady Sif one of your glorious triumphs in this bed? ››

The obstinate silence irritates him.

‹‹ Loki! ›› Thor shouts on impulse, when the trickster's long legs cross-grip his hips and push him to the side,reversing their positions.

‹‹ That bitch! How low you fell, brother! ›› He says aggravated, with a smile full of bitterness mocking the ancient bond of kinship, that perished after his defeat.

‹‹ Don't you dare Loki, we are not brothers anymore! ›› Thor warns him, looking at his graceful companion, who, as a challenge to his admonition, is leaving the bed.

'_He will now make one of his usual scenes and he will go away!_'

The heir thinks.

But Loki is unpredictable.

Elegant and proud, the rebel kneels by the bedside and bows his head as a sign of docile submission.

‹‹ I will be a memorable lover for you, my Lord … ›› He whispers with grace and devotion. ‹‹ No woman will ever be compared to me after this long night together. ››

Thor can't believe his words: is it perhaps an offer coming from his heart?

And then his own heart rises in his throat when Loki lifts his face and shows his teary eyes.

‹‹ You will be my future consort, not Sif, nor anyone else. ›› The Thunderer gently reassures him. ‹‹ Nobody can make you worry, my beloved, I chose you, you are the one I want by my side! ››

‹‹ We will discuss this tomorrow, all right? ›› His fiancée suggests and his voice cracks from the tumult. ‹‹ I didn't want us to talk this evening ... ››

Proud and enigmatic as always, Loki, as if he were another person, rekindles his exuberance, and Thor once again is baffled with his abrupt change in moods, watching his seductive movements.

That moment he whole room seems to vanish, bewitched by the electrifying display his beloved offers with

draining sluggishness and provocative convolutions.

His ethereal body shines like silver in the moonlight, the eyes are the same color as the precious tourmaline

nestled on his engagement ring, his long silky hair is like the mantle of the darkest night.

An elusive creature, Loki: sublime enchanter, he mystifies and conquers Thor's senses, relentlessly subduing him with his magic.

‹‹ And we will not talk, my beloved. ›› The Asgardian says, as he is trembling thrilled for their union, heatedly discharging his remaining clothing on the floor.

An unpleasant feeling runs through Thor as he grabs Loki's wrists to bring him closer.

**A** sudden and mysterious glow that lasted just a fraction of a second, an eerie light in which he feared Loki would vanish.

But he's still there, before him.

He has never been as beautiful as he appears now.

The intensity of Thor's gestures is punished by Loki, who forces him to fall on the bed.

‹‹ If you want me, you'll have to submit to my rules! ›› He warns.

‹‹ As you wish, my beloved. ›› The Thunderer happily accepts, excited by Loki's daring.

And then again that spooky gleam, similar to the light of a fire, takes possession of the intense green of Loki's irises; a hellish smirk scars his pretty face, and makes Thor even more suspicious.

'_Something isn't right.'_

His instinct warns him, yet his heart is in danger of blowing in his ribcage as he feels that nude body moving naughtily over him, as his manhood throbs, rubbed against the soft, velvety skin of the Trickster with unnerving slowness and he is ready to give himself to Loki.

‹‹ Do not close your eyes, look at me! ›› Loki orders proudly, looking wild-eyed while the penetration follows with astonishing sweetness.

And Thor does not hesitate to obey.

Thor lays expert hands on those slim hips, enjoying the view of that androgynous body wooing his own, as Loki's delicate oval is raised to the immense pleasure he takes from the act.

‹‹ Look at me, Thor! ›› That raw voice repeats, almost evanescent in the air full of passion.

Slow and obliging, Loki fully grasps control over all of Thor's intimate fantasies delaying as much as possible the highest peak of delight for both.

Thor is amazed how Loki's erotic movements are so in tune with his own needs, as if they are guided by

his mind rather than his beloved's instinct. It would be tempting to abandon himself to Loki, but the Asgardians senses are still vigilant: they refuse to collapse to the passion the Liesmith so quickly conceded.

'_What is happening to me? Why can't I give Loki all my emotional involvement?' _

This question haunts his consciousness.

And finally everything is clear.

'_I don't smell his perfume any longer.' _

Thor takes the lack of sweet and intense almond smell of Loki's skin as a hint, capable of destroying his dreams mercilessly and breaking his heart into

a thousand pieces.

The rational conclusion instantly dissolves the illusion cast by the Lord of Deceptions.

**A **verdict handed down in a sensual way, hiding his disturbing stratagem.

The particular tone, useful to distract the Thunderer, allowed Loki to create a chimera with his appearance, which he ordered to seduce Thor, to give him time to complete his plan.

‹‹ I don't want us to talk this evening ... ››

Loki has to act quickly, to guard himself from committing some fatal imprudence, since the temptation to go back and lay between Thor's strong arms is so ingrained in him.

He has to foreclose the vision of his statuary body lying between the costly sheets.

It would be a folly to give up right now, so close to his goal.

‹‹ As you wish, my beloved. ››

The voice of his gorgeous lover reaches him and causes deep pangs in his stomach, obfuscating his capacity for reasoning.

'_I don't have to think about it, I don't have to see, I don't have to listen!'_

The traitor commands himself, trying to appease the powerful beat of his elated heart, not caused by his bewitched blood only.

A smooth, triangular polished stone.

Loki gathers the precious relics between his hands, contemplating them in awe, then storing them safely, carefully

binding the laces on the small bag, for fear of losing them.

'_I should cheer for this victory, so why I want to cry so badly?' _

He asks himself troubled, while collecting his last strength and reaching a hand towards his garments.

A sudden shadow hanging over him, despite the intensity of the moonbeams, stops his every gesture, his heart hammering inside his chest.

‹‹ It is not here where you should be now. ›› A deep voice growls.

The culprit turns confused.

‹‹ How did you get rid of the illusion? ›› Is Loki's unconscious question, staring down to observe the play of light and darkness.

However, Thor has no intention to satisfy his curiosity, lifting him over one shoulder and carrying him like a rag doll to the other side of the large room.

‹‹ Leave! Me! Alone! Leave Me! ›› His hostage shouts, vigorously pounding his fists against the bare back of his jailor.

Loki's fears increase dramatically when they reach the bed and his trembling hand drops the precious bag which falls at Thor's feet.

‹‹ You promised at the ceremony, remember? Respect, protection, love! Would you maybe deny your own

promise?! Do you not have a shred of honor?! ›› Loki reminds him, in a desperate attempt to escape further violence he fears and cannot suffer.

‹‹ Do not talk to me about honor! You lied again! You played with my feelings again! ›› Thor cries out all his pain, kicking away the corpus delicti. ‹‹ You're a monster! You're not worthy; you do not deserve my love! ››

The accused is silent; those words are like the cut of a sharp knife straight to his heart as he is also tormented by his own betrayal and forced to unravel his condition, made even more helpless after drinking the blood of a witch.

Without courtesy Thor drops the rebel flat on his bed, pressing one hand to his neck, not to give him any way out.

The fight is imbalanced, but Loki does not intend to surrender.

He has the urge to defend himself from his attacker, who, courtesy to his physical prowess, lies above him and blocks even the slightest movement with his body.

‹‹ I looked into your eyes, they seemed so clear, so honest … ›› The cheated Thunderer whispers in his ear. ‹‹ I listened to the beat of your excited heart. I wonder: how is it possible to simulate such an emotional involvement? How did you succeed in tricking me, Loki? ››

Thor asks, aware he is failing to hate that treacherous, dangerous creature despite everything.

‹‹ I'm not the monster you believe me to be! If this night I deluded you, it is because I 'm forced to! ›› Loki defends himself, embittered. ‹‹ I must have those runes, after drinking that bewitched wine. ››

To his discomfort Loki is forced to mention it, but he can not find the courage to reveal the whole truth to Thor.

‹‹ What was in the cup? ›› Thor asks, surprised by such unexpected admission.

'_If I confess now, blinded by anger as he is, how will he respond?' _

Loki asks to himself.

‹‹ I need those damned runes … ››

He repeats in a gentle whisper, choosing to hide his own private burden.

‹‹ You risked so much to recover them as if you had the hours of your life counted. I'll ask again, what was there in the wine? ›› Thor looks puzzled as Loki blushes violently, locked in a stubborn silence. ‹‹ This silence of yours is not helping... ››

Thor states resentful of yet another mystery involving his beloved.

Loki buries his face between the sheets to escape his gaze.

‹‹ Why can't you love me? ››

The heir's voice cracks, while he decides to forcefully dispose of the boots and the tight trousers still separating their bodies.

Denuded of his last bits of clothing, the Trickster panics, helplessly trembling when his buttocks touch the erection of the man he hurt, an obscene contact that excites him against all reason.

‹‹ Damn, stop it! ›› Loki curses, but he's at the mercy of base instincts, baffled by the warmth of the hot body over his.

‹‹ Why is it so difficult to love me? ›› Thor takes the face of his companion and pulls it closer to his, to show his own desperation as he relaxes upon him. ‹‹ I love you Loki, I love you madly! ››

Like a raging river Thor declares his heartfelt sentiment. He's broken with grief, so painful it takes away his breath.

_I love you ... I love you ... _

Loki's heart misses a beat hearing these words.

‹‹ I'll love you forever, despite your atrocities, your contempt, your hatred! ›› Thor confesses, crying convulsively, liberating his soul.

‹‹ No! I don't hate you! I don't! Not at all! ›› Loki shouts quite unthinking, but his betrothed no longer wishes to listen.

‹‹ I will not take you as my consort. In the end, you win. ››

Thor's declaration is serene, but it hits his betrothed with the intensity of a sweeping and destructive storm.

Confused, frightened, Loki bites the bed sheets, to silence the unbearable urge to rid his conscience and throw himself in Thor's arms, telling him not to admit defeat, not now when the Trickster is in truth falling in love with him.

**T**he surrender is painful, but inevitable.

The capable leader in a thousand battles, never bent to the obstacles raised by fate until that night, the Mighty Thor has fallen at the hands of Loki.

Love, unique and eternal, is his greatest weakness.

Loki has earned his freedom.

In the end, Loki has killed him inside when he refused his love, deceiving him; his dark angel has stolen even his last tears.

**D**eep chills run along the bare back of the heir to the throne… yet another face comes nearer to his own, eye in the eye again.

‹‹ What else do you want from me, Loki? ›› The prince asks, crushed. ‹‹ You have already ruined my heart, my dignity,my life. I've made a miserable, desperate error with my love for you. Kill me if that's what you want, but grant me one last wish: don't force me to listen to any other lie from your hellish lips! ››

‹‹ You've never had the gift of a cunning mind, nor of intuition, ›› Loki tells him, although his voice is both soft and benevolent, ‹‹ but I have always admired your big heart and great loyalty. ››

Two small liquid pearls slowly slide from the corners of his bright eyes and run down his tender face, while he moves and sits himself on his former older brother's legs.

‹‹ Which is why you deserve to reign more than any other. ›› Loki comments, kissing Thor's pouty lips after every word. ‹‹ I would never be worthy of the throne of Asgard… ›› he admits through plentiful tears, ‹‹ …and I am not worthy of you! ››

‹‹ Loving you made me wiser. ›› Thor replies promptly. ‹‹ You completed me, made me better. ››

‹‹ Please forgive me… ›› Loki begs him sincerely, like a child.

And Thor welcomes him back into his heart, while their tongues are eager to dance together again, binding in a natural and harmonious way.

Not another word is spoken between the two newfound lovers.

Subdued moans and dreamy sighs hover in the air of the astounding night and speak of their immense desire to be joined into one being.

Loki's twisting movements electrifies Thor's manhood. He presses on Loki's flat belly greedily and possessively, in a movement full of intimacy.

The Crown Prince lifts his lover, gently laying him between the sheets, then standing over him, helping the slender legs so that their bodies are free to meet.

‹‹ I want you to make love to me, Thor… ›› Loki admits, lost in overwhelming emotions impossible to manage.

His words are true, uttered by his heart, triumphant over cold reason. The fear of losing his lover forever won over his prudence, plans and plots and they are swept away together with all the anxieties and fears of consequences that his demand will bring along.

Thor's irises are two burning sapphires which make him forget all his anxieties.

‹‹ I believe you, my love…›› Thor whispers, while he grants his master's wish and starts to slither up on him with slow care.

The pain is so small for Loki during the gentle penetration after experiencing the agony of abandonment, that it's little more than a sweet torment for him, his arms shaking, his smile reassuring.

Sweet and patient, Thor conquers his flesh inch by inch and, when the union of their bodies is complete, the air welcomes their lewd moans, liberating the suppressed pleasure; the beauty of the moment is such as to make them forget the sad baggage of their tormented existences.

Thor's heated hips are driven to meet Loki's, with shy moves of the pelvis. Sex and love, greed and feelings are perfectly in balance.

The two lovers move in tune one above the other so graceful their acts look like a strange and hypnotic dance.

They are enjoying the moment without remorse threatening to destroy their hearts.

Loki gets lost in Thor as Thor gets lost in Loki, becoming a single indivisible being.

Fantasy and reality have no defined boundaries.

Thor guides his beloved in the whirlwind of unbridled passion, like a ship sailing with strong wind in her sails, exploring an ocean, its waters crystal clear one moment, hazy the next.

Loki languidly looks at his handsome lover, pleased by his movements, losing himself in a passion growing so intense and devastating that it threatens to madden him.

‹‹ Marry me! ››Thor pleads in the vortex of wild pleasure. ‹‹ Marry me, Loki, please marry me! ›› He begs, but the undisputed Lord of Deceit and Mysteries does not utter vows biting his lower lip in anger until it bleeds to curb the impulsive inclination to answer.

His heart says YES, pushing him to lay down his weapons and surrender to the urge of love completely.

His reason is for no; he recalls the ambition to regain power and glory from the same man he is lying with.

Taking in the image of green eyes full of confusion, Thor leads both of them to orgasm.

They scream their infinite pleasure together, then Loki cuddles up on Thor's chest, lightheaded, embracing him tightly.

Exhausted, they relax one alongside the other, with labored breathing but still smiling, satiated in body and soul, lost in their intimate fantasies.

Their fingers are intertwining, eager to still feel somehow connected.

**T**he reassuring and protective gaze only Thor is capable to give is a comforting vision for Loki.

It persuades him to feel his belly, where his lover's warm seed has taken roots.

Conflicting thoughts overwhelm him, fear of the future and the reticent desire of having the child.

Is it the fruit of love or slavery?

Loki does not quite know what to say and how to handle the current state of events.

‹‹ Are you cold, my beloved? ›› Thor worries about him, seeing him suddenly cringe.

‹‹ I ... Yes, I am … ›› Loki lies, thanking him for his loving kindness when he wraps his naked body in the sheets, and enfolds him warmly in a sweet embrace.

‹‹ Sleep here tonight! ›› The heir suddenly asks.

‹‹ Thor! ›› His startled mate exclaims. ‹‹ The rune stones are still in this room. You know I won't be able to resist their call. ››

‹‹ Take them if you wish, they're my gift to you. ›› Is the other's reply. ‹‹ But stay in my arms tonight and make me the happiest man of all Asgard. ››

The powerful beat of Thor's big heart is comforting and he sweetly caresses Loki's jet-black hair.

The delight of it all carries Loki on the way to a tempting oblivion of the senses.

‹‹ I love you ... ›› The Asgardian says again, before falling in a peaceful night's sleep.

The Liesmith turns his greedy eyes towards the mystical stones, able to distinguish them in spite of the distance and the thick darkness.

They shine to him as bright as rare diamonds, invoked by the magic that wakes up in his body.

‹‹ I love you too … ›› he reluctantly confesses to himself more then to his sleeping lover, ‹‹ … but I won't marry you, Asgardian. ››

He declares before being overcome by fatigue.

His perverse smirk resurfaces: a new tomorrow awaits him.

**-Translation by:**

_Alessandra Zago_  
-Edit by  
_Sigynthefaithful_


End file.
